Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Memories
by gofishstories
Summary: [OPEN FF] In the distant future, hope is nonexistent. The sun doesn't rise, and the new day never comes; darkness reigns over the land under the heavy rule of Primal Dialga. Two brave souls-a Treecko and a human named Sophia-join forces to fight the darkness and take back the future, even at the cost of their own lives. A prequel to Pokemon Mystery Dungeon 2. PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK!
1. How It All Ended

**AN: Hey everyone! Welcome to my story! A quick note before the story really begins: YOU DO NOT NEED ANY PRIOR KNOWLEDGE OF THE MYSTERY DUNGEON GAMES TO READ THIS. It is what you might call an "open fanfic." Meaning, people outside of the fandom can enjoy it too. So please, do not let the name discourage you.**

 **I love feedback and active readers. Constructive criticism is welcome. Hateful comments and bashing, however, are not. Even if you didn't like it, tell me why you didn't like it and I will look into how to write that specific thing better.**

 **Finally, this fic will have coarse language and violence throughout. Reader discretion is advised. I don't own Pokémon blah blah blah.**

 **Without further ado, I present _Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Memories_.**

* * *

The pain of death was already getting to me. Light flickered up from my chest, directly above my heart. My time had come. The feeling was dull at first, like a blunt blade penetrating the top layer of my skin. I ignored it, wishing it wasn't real, but it continued to grow at an unbearable rate. Ignoring it became impossible as it grew into a resonating, burning sensation that enveloped my entire being. It seeped down into my core and ate away at my soul. More light began to spill out from every pore of my body.

My partner continued to march along to her own cheerful beat in front of me. My heavy steps paled in comparison to her gleeful ones. The world was no longer in peril and everything was just dandy in her eyes. There would be no more pain, no more suffering, and no more dark future; only happiness. I couldn't bring myself to tell her until it was almost time. Ruining her bright new life with the bad news would break her heart, and seeing her cry would break mine. That was not how I wanted to go. I wanted to savor these last few moments and enjoy the fact that I had been part of a moment that would go down in history. I had saved the world from its own future—my past—and death was my reward.

I looked up, maybe for inspiration of some kind to keep trudging forward or the sign to simply stop now. I wasn't quite sure what I was searching for, but the swirling clouds and impossibly suspended chunks of rock and tower did not provide the answer. Time was beginning to flow normally again after the defeat of Primal Dialga, but the abnormal features indicated that things still weren't quite right.

A series of sudden, violent tremors that threatened to shake the ground out from under our feet reminded me of that fact. It caused Leafy to stumble. The Turtwig squeaked, "Ah! The world is falling apart." I couldn't help but laugh through the pain at my partner. She was a peach and was very easily startled. The twig atop her head quivered with fear and her head began to retract into her muddy shell.

Slowly, she emerged, and her leaves stopped shaking. She turned to her left, then to her right, then looked back at me. "I guess that's the world just settling back into place?" she hypothesized. Her eyes widened when she noticed my condition. I must have been much worse for wear than I originally thought. "Are you alright, Sophia? "

I nodded, "Let's just get back to the Rainbow Stoneship, okay?" The words were forced, barely making it out of my mouth. It felt like a flamethrower attack had enveloped me, disintegrating me down to my very core. Leafy couldn't know it until the time came. We were quickly approaching that moment, but I still couldn't bring myself to say it.

We trudged back, sore after a hard-earned victory. Each step took more effort than the last. It was impossible to tell if the prolonged steps were because I was dying or just incredibly tired. My mind settled on the fact that it was a combination of both. Light continued to flow, almost overwhelming my being now. It was time to tell her.

"Leafy, stop," I feebly ordered, "There's something I need to tell you." I swallowed the lump in my throat. Now was not the time for tears, I had to finish strong for my friend. She turned, gawking at the light that surrounded me. "Dusknoir told me something," I paused, searching for the right words, "unsettling after our fight with him."

"What did he tell you? What's wrong with you?" Her eyes sparkled with tears and understanding that something wasn't quite right.

In that moment, I knew that I had kept this to myself for too long. I had to force my words out, or risk not being able to bid my partner farewell. "It looks like," another pause, the right words struggled to come to mind through the haze of pain, "I have to say good-bye."

Tears that she had been holding back trickled out, and the leaves on her head began to droop. "What does that mean?" she asked slowly. It was bad, and she knew it. More tears from her, but still none from me. It was incredibly hard to keep it together, but I managed for her sake.

"He told me that if we changed the future, the Pokémon of the future would disappear. We changed history, which will in turn change the future; my future." I turned my head away from her view and wiped my eyes. I turned back and powered through the last bit of this horrible revelation, "Since that future will disappear, I will disappear too."

Leafy's eyes widened, crying faster and harder now. "No, no, no, no," she sobbed, "Why? Why do you have to? There has to be something we can do."

I shook my head, knowing there was absolutely nothing. I had pondered and accepted my fate before we even started climbing Temporal Tower. I came to terms with it as we dealt the final blows to Primal Dialga, and now it was Leafy's turn to do the same.

"I want to thank you for everything, but I do have to disappear." I bowed my head, letting more light wash over me. This was it.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. I had to get the words out quickly or risk not giving Leafy the chance to have me with her forever. "Actually, there is something you can do."

Leafy's eyes snapped up to me from the ground. "Yeah, of course, anything for you, Sophia!"

"You have to go home and tell everyone of our journey. The whole world needs to know what happened here so that nothing like it will ever happen again. Never forget me, and I promise that I will also never forget you. Preserve me in your heart and in the memories of all Pokémon. Let me serve as a reminder of the dark future." I deemed that that was a good final wish. Leafy would never be without me this way.

She still shook her head. "No, I can't do it without you. You're the only reason I'm here; you made me strong." She couldn't finish her thoughts and was stammering to get more out. "I don't know what," she stopped, "what I would do without you."

"No, Leafy, you have to be strong. Go on and live! You can be strong on your own, you don't need me anymore." I felt more weight pressing down on me. My heart felt like it was struggling to beat, and my head was dizzy; my final moments were upon me.

Leafy yelped the second my body hit the ground. My long ears flopped lazily to the dirt and stone beneath me, and the matted puff of cream-colored fur on my chest raised and lowered slower and slower with each breath I struggled to take. I was still conscious, but I wasn't sure how much longer it would last. "Again, thank you for all of our great adventures. It was a blast, and I am so glad I got to know you, Leafy."

Leafy rushed over to me and curled up next to me. She placed her head on my stomach, letting my soft fur envelop her. "Thank you too, Sophia, for everything."

My eyes closed, and the pain ceased. I was nothing but a memory now.


	2. Memories

I awoke with a start, coughing and gasping for air. I drew in a breath only to cough out again.

Air in… Cough out… Air in… Cough out...

It was a violent cycle, like I was drowning. I was gasping for my next breath in an ocean, but there was only black surrounding me, no water. In fact, it was pitch black, I could barely see my paw in front of my face. I laid down on my side, hoping to alleviate some of the pain and regain my breath. But the truth was, I wasn't in pain; the paralyzing feeling was more startling than excruciating. My most primal instincts screamed at the baffling situation.

My soul felt like it was being nibbled away by the overwhelming darkness. I wasn't sure how long my mind would last in this abyss. Immediately, my mind began to race with horrifying thoughts, _What if I'm stuck out here alone? I'm going to die._ After resting for what could have been mere seconds or an eternity, the darkness was too consuming; my body refused to let me sit there and rot.

I forced my sore throat to scream out for help, "Is someone there?" Nothing responded, so I desperately tried again, "Hello?"

Instantly, something in the distance lit up. It blinked on and off a few times like it was asking for me to respond. I gathered up as much air as I could muster and shouted at the light, "I'm over here." The light jumped, then started growing bigger rapidly.

As it grew closer, I noticed a sprinting figure holding the light's source: a lantern. The shape reminded me of an egg with frills hanging off of it. As it grew even closer, I noticed another figure behind the first. I couldn't quite make out what it was, but its darker colors shadowed the frontrunner like a plump ghost and its chosen haunting victim. The duet's light cut through the void, illuminating the infinite emptiness that I was suspended in.

"We're almost there, hang on." I heard a female's voice say. My mind decided that that was the egg-shaped one speaking to me. A dark-type or a ghost-type—typically dreary or unsettling types to be around—could never be that cheery.

I rolled over to my belly, placing my head on my paws. My large, rabbit-shaped ears drooped down to touch the ground beneath me. Finally, the frilly egg-shaped shadow in the distance made sense in my mind as a cheerfully pink Blissey with an egg in the pouch on her stomach approached my location. I looked up at her, hoping for an explanation about where I was. My memory was eluding me at the moment, so any clues as to where I was were appreciated. The moments before I had woken up slipped from my mind, leaving me clueless to my whereabouts.

Something deep in my mind caused me to panic when I saw the second Pokémon. A Dusknoir floated into the light and glanced down at me with its singular red eye. Its head sat within its impressive collar and its antenna-shaped feature atop its head made me shiver with fearful recollection. I freaked out, scrambling to my feet as fast as possible and bolted away from the duo. Within seconds, I felt strong arms wrap around me. My view passed from the void below me to a sinister yellow maw on the creature's stomach before panning up to its face. I forced myself to look into Dusknoir's huge red eye as it hoisted me up. I gulped down the lump in my throat.

"Please don't freak out, we're here to guide you," she said. Her voice caught me off guard, and my missing memories screamed that this was incorrect. The blanks wanted me to believe one fact: Dusknoir was supposed to be a man.

Her face became more soothing, obviously a response to the confusion painted on my face in the dim lighting, "We are taking you home, you will be safe soon enough." She didn't know the reason behind my fear, this was not the same Dusknoir that my mind was alerting me of.

"Where is home?" My voice was raspy.

"The spirit world," Blissey responded this time. "It is also known as Paradise, and it will be your new home." She waved the lantern from side to side while humming a gleeful tune. Something told me that Blissey had trouble staying in one spot for too long with her jolly demeanor.

The gears in my head clicked, and everything made sense in a rush of thoughts as I processed the information. "I'm dead?" I realized, half asking for confirmation and half just stating the obvious. _This can't be happening. How did I die?_ I wondered to myself. I began to squirm in Dusknoir's arms again. She kept me pinned in place with a hug between her strong arm and her bosom. The ghost-type had a surprisingly tight grip despite having a partially spectral form.

Blissey reached out and touched my forehead. Calmly, she spoke, "Yes, you are dead. I know that is a shock to you, but everything will be alright soon enough. You will be allowed to rest when we reach the spirit world."

My muscles relaxed, and I felt at ease again. Soft pulses moved through me from where Blissey's paw rested on my forehead to the tip of my tail. The tension in my body melted away, and my mind ceased to race. I felt…at rest.

However, one question still ate at me. "Where are we now if this isn't the spirit world?"

Dusknoir took her turn explaining, "You are currently a lost spirit, trapped between life and death," she explained. Not leaving any time for me to consume the information, she continued, "You came from the Dark Future, didn't you?"

I stared blankly ahead, trying to remember my life. Finally, something trickled back into my mind. "Yes," I started out slowly. "I think so. At least, that sounds right."

Some of the puzzles pieces still didn't fit yet, so I kept talking. "But I wasn't there when I died. I was," my mind reeled, searching for more answers. "I was in the past when I died. I was with Leafy." I thought for a moment about Dusknoir's comment. "Wait, how did you know where I was from?"

"Who's Leafy?" Blissey prompted, ignoring my question.

I pictured Leafy in my mind, then spoke, "A Turtwig. She was my partner, and I died when we were returning from an adventure." More information began to click into place. I had something to do with my death. _No, I caused it,_ I determined. _But, how? What did I do that caused me to die?_

"Good, you're remembering your life, aren't you? I can see the wheels turning in your mind," Blissey hypothesized. "That's great. Most Pokémon don't wake up with any memories after they die. They gradually regain them over many, many years."

"Do you at least know your name by now? That is one of the first things Pokémon remember," Dusknoir prompted.

"Or, do you simply go by Eevee? I noticed that most of you Pokémon from the Dark Future don't have names, and that you referred to each other by species," Blissey asked.

Shaking my head, I answered, "No, I'm a human, I'm not a Pokémon." That sentence struck me as odd as I was so obviously an Eevee, but something about it rang true in my very core. I stroked the cream-colored fur on my chest and grabbed at my ears, noting that I was so obviously an Eevee. _But I am human,_ I convinced myself.

"You want me to call you 'human?' That's an odd name," Blissey remarked. Her face scrunched up as she said it again, "Human."

That still wasn't right in my mind, but it felt truer each time I said it. "No, as in, I am a human. My name is Sophia."

We stopped moving. They both paused and stared at me with expressions that I couldn't quite place an emotion with. Such a statement did deserve an uproar, but their eerie silence made me realize just how odd it was. The feelings and silence were only magnified by the abyss around us. I shifted around in Dusknoir's arms in an attempt to make them notice my discomfort.

Finally, I had to speak up, "Can we please keep moving? I feel a bit uncomfortable out here in the dark." They ignored my plea.

"Are you _the_ Sophia? The one that the future Pokémon keep talking about?" Blissey asked, barely leaving any space between my sentence and hers.

"You're the one that died leaving Temporal Tower in the past. That's why you are so far removed from Paradise. You are the one that changed time and destroyed the Dark Future," Dusknoir said. The few traces of sympathy that were in her voice earlier had completely vanished.

"I'm not sure what that means. My memories are still shaky. I only remember stepping through the Passage of Time and waking up as a Pokémon on the beach. I have no memories of my death, nor of my human life, not even—" I paused, realizing I did remember something. "My parents.

"I do remember my life. I remember Temporal Tower, why I was there. My journeys with Leafy that lead me to that final challenge," I said after a few moments of silence. Dusknoir and Blissey smiled softly as they watched my face contort with recollection.

"I remember everything about my human life too. My parents, my friends, my home. When I woke up as a Pokémon in the past, I had lost all of those memories. But now, now I can remember everything." I smiled and repeated, "I can actually remember everything about my life. I remember dying too. I changed the past, and I am the reason why the world was saved from the Dark Future."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," Blissey said politely, realizing just how big this was to me. Her voice sounded off for the first time since we met. I couldn't place what it was.

My joy turned to sadness when I started thinking through my life. It was a life full of turmoil and work, only to be snuffed out at the end by my own actions. The future was miserable, and the past was hectic. I could only think of one true positive: Leafy. Leafy really had made my life more enjoyable when I stopped to think about. For once, I had a friend that actually cared about me. It made her mean just that much more to me.

I couldn't help but cry at the thought of her standing alone on Temporal Tower. "I left Leafy behind. She meant so much to me and me to her." I wiped my tears on Dusknoir's shoulder. "I shouldn't have left her, she was the best thing that happened to me. Now I'm so scared of what will happen to her."

Blissey touched me again with her lit up paw. I felt at peace once more, but the feeling was not as overwhelming as the first time. Magic tricks were never as strong or shocking the second time. The warmth faded as she pulled her paw away, leaving the frigid void and my sadness to sink in again.

"You're going to need to be calm and collected when we show up," Blissey commanded kindly. Even when ordering me around, she was so gentle. "We are going to introduce you as a pivotal role in changing the future. I want you to explain to everyone why you decided to go through with your actions. Everyone is demanding answers right now, and I think you might be able to give them what they want. It might come as a surprise, but—"

"You killed a lot of souls; human and Pokémon." Dusknoir interjected. "They will want to hold you responsible for their deaths and exile you into the Darkness for genocide."

Dusknoir's words chilled me. I found it hard to keep still with her new threat looming over me. I tried to shake away again, but Dusknoir held fast. "I can't do that. I didn't mean to get anyone killed. I just wanted a better future for everyone." My thoughts raced, _Did I actually know what I was doing? How many_ _Pokémon_ _were affected?_ My mouth felt dry and tears began to return to my eyes.

"But you accepted that you, Celebi, and Grovyle would die? You had to have known there were more than just you three that would be erased from existence." Blissey paused, "Right? You knew what you were doing. A better world for future generations meant erasing a whole people and culture from the already existing timeline. Also, you put Leafy in danger even after being warned of the truth by Dusknoir."

I searched deep through my memories of the future, looking to see if I knew what I was doing. The answer disturbed me, and I almost immediately regretted what I found. "Yeah, I did know that everyone would die. And it's true, I put Leafy and all of my other friend from the past in harm's way." Understanding that Blissey knew about my actions made me realize that I needed to choose my words carefully. I had underestimated what this grim reaper knew about the world of the living. My mind wheeled with uncertainty about my eternal home, _I am completely in the wrong here, and I'm going to be exiled for it._ "Wait, how did you know about Grovyle and Celebi? I never even mentioned them or—"

Dusknoir dropped me, cutting off my words instantly and whisked over to Blissey. "Maybe she isn't fit for Paradise after all," she whispered.

My butt throbbed where it had collided with the ground, but the feeling was numbed momentarily when I overheard their words. I wasn't supposed to be listening in on their conversation, but I did, and it shook my soul. _I am going to get left out here to rot,_ I suspected.

Blissey, shaking her head, said, "No, we will listen to her side of the story too. There is more that she doesn't remember yet and more facts than we know. You know that our knowledge of the Dark Future is limited due to Dialga usurping control from the other legendary Pokémon. He threw the world into chaos and despair! Once she is in Paradise, she can tell us what we need to know to make this situation seem crystal clear."

I decided to speak up. "I can hear you."

"I know," Dusknoir replied coldly. I was about to speak up again when she said, "And I don't care." Blissey glared at her helper, running back over to me to scoop me up this time instead.

"It will be alright, you will be fine. No one is going to exile you without hearing your side of the story first," she cooed.

Her embrace was warm, and it reminded me of the guild in the past. The hay nests came back to me, as did the soothing sounds of evenings with my fellow guildmates. Kricketunes chirped and everyone snored as I snuggled into the hay. Leafy had the nest beside me; her sleep talking and mumbling rang through my ears once again. I felt at rest.

Something in the back of my mind whispered that this was Blissey's doing. That she was trying to make me forget about the conversation I had overheard. It worked. Maybe magic did work twice so long as the magician knew of a way to make the surprises fun again. I was at peace in her arms as we strode into view of an incredible light source. My mind was too caught up in memories to wonder how I hadn't noticed it in the pitch-black atmosphere.

The soft haze it gave to the darkness made me feel warm without even being close to the source. The sensation made my mind flee for softer memories than the scars of the Dark Future that Dusknoir and Blissey had reopened. I was next to a warm campfire with Leafy and my other teammates out on an exploration. The remembered glow of the fire and the light actually in front of me made me feel truly at rest, even more at peace than in Blissey's arms. I felt like a child in a mother's embrace. My life had been rough, and maybe being dead wasn't so bad. The tales I would have to tell to earn my place there slipped out of my mind along with my worries about being exiled. Instead, I let my mind wander off to sleep.

* * *

I woke up on a patch of soft grass. It was a vibrant green, filled with life and energy. The softness reminded me of newly birthed grass that one would find in the middle of spring. The only thing missing was the flowers. I pawed at it, feeling the texture. It tickled the bottom of my paw, getting in between my pads and toes. The smell rose up, newly cut and maintained. For some reason, it filled me with joy. Everything felt right in the world, nothing could go wrong. That was until I noticed the crowd around me.

Unknown faces surrounded me, watching me with eager eyes. I yelped when I noticed just how many Pokémon were here. The sea of faces seemed to stretch forever. I had to jump to see past the few shorter rows, only to notice there was no end in sight. I braced myself as the ground below me moved, elevating me above the eye height of the tallest Pokémon. I rose above the masses on a disk barely wide enough for me to turn around on. The small diameter made it impossible to survey the crowd and the rest of my surroundings. I also noted that there were no humans in the crowd, I was alone as a human trapped in the foxlike body of an Eevee in a hoard of Pokemon.

Dusknoir floated up to me. "This is Sophia," she announced to the crowd. Her voice resonated in the hollow space of Paradise. All Pokémon respected her thundering voice by not uttering a single word. "She was the human that decided to change the world. She is the reason so many of you are now dead." At Dusknoir's final words, the crowd started hissing at me. They threw insults and called me every name imaginable. Insults from throughout the generations breached my ears. Their roars were deafening, so overwhelming, that I couldn't do anything except curl up in a ball and cry. I tried to ignore them, but my sensitive ears made it impossible to drown out the noise.

 _I have cried way too much today,_ I determined. But, the tears didn't stop and neither did the insults. I couldn't do anything either, I just had to take it. _If only I were a steel-type, maybe it wouldn't hurt as much._

"Exile her!" one Pokémon lifted their voice above the booming sea of souls. A hundred thousand more joined them in their cry. "Exile her! Exile her!"

"I'm not supposed to be crying, I thought this was Paradise," I mumbled through sobs. Not that it mattered what I thought anyway. My opinion didn't matter in life and it obviously didn't matter in death.

Blissey flew up next to Dusknoir and began her portion of the speech. "However, she did a noble thing, and those of you that were affected made an incredible sacrifice for a better future. The world has been saved and will live on in the light forever now. Don't the Pokémon of this new generation and the generations of the future deserve that? Instead, you all believe selfishly that your lives were worth more than those of this new, better future."

Hushed whispers flew through the crowd now, still overwhelmingly loud for an attempt at being quiet. Some had already come to their decision and began shouting for my demise again. It was disheartening that some didn't even want to listen to my side. Not that I could justify my side though; my actions felt incredibly evil after Dusknoir had pointed out just how many lives I had snuffed out.

"She's going to explain to us why she thinks she was justified," Dusknoir exclaimed. "If you all still see her as wrong, we will throw her out of Paradise."

Angry voices piped up again, but Blissey quieted them with a wave of her paw. "We will all listen, but only the Elder Souls, such as Dusknoir and I, will decide the final judgment."

Sixteen other Pokémon flew up around me from the crowds below. Each was of a single type and were fully evolved. I noticed an Alakazam, a Goodra, an Absol, and a Raichu flew up to me first. A Machamp, a Tornadus, a Klinklang, a Weezing, an Illumise, a Typhlosion, and a Sylveon followed. Then finally, the last wave joined, consisting of a Donphan, a Sudowoodo, a Basculin, a Carnivine, and a Glalie. _The Elder Souls,_ I thought, recalling what Blissey had just said.

Blissey continued, only speaking to me now, "These Pokémon will be your judges. Tell your story to the crowd but remember that you are convincing only us. There are eighteen of us here, and you only need nine affirmative votes to stay in Paradise."

I gulped, trying to find the right place to start. There were so many entry points, but only one could be right, could be convincing enough to sway my judges. I searched for it, exploring deep inside my memories for the starting line. I would start to say something, then swiftly change my mind, deciding it wasn't quite right. Again, I began, then stopped short to think of a better way.

The crowd was growing impatient and began shouting again. They still demanded blood or an explanation. Alakazam turned to face them, his eyes glowing pinkish purple. The masses silenced with a single wave of his hand. He then raised his other hand slowly and methodically, forming a bubble around me and the Elder Souls. It was the same hue as his eyes and was barely transparent enough that I could see the masses of Pokémon in the distance. Its formation upward followed the timing of Alakazam's hand. Finally, we were fully enclosed, sealed off from the rest of the world.

"Your voice will reach them, but their taunts will not come to harm you anymore," Alakazam informed me. His voice was gentle, but with a harsh edge to it. Nothing like the completely gently Blissey, but not nearly as sharp as Dusknoir. He reminded me of my human father, harsh, but with some semblance of love.

Instantly, I knew where to start.


	3. A Land of Darkness

My dad was beginning to kick up a storm in the house. I could hear his booming voice calling my name over and over. He shouted and screamed for me to come back and do farm work. My heart wasn't there though, and it never was. He couldn't understand that. My heart belonged in books, learning about our mysterious world. Figuring out why time never flowed when it once did long ago.

My hiding spot was perfect; I was scrunched up behind the trash cans directly outside of our property, my bag seated in my lap and pressed up against my chest. I was invisible to him. My hands patted the dirt around me, the muddier patches almost blended with my skin color. I wiped my hands on my jeans in a combination of nerves and a somewhat successful way to get the mud off. However, when I curled up again, more dust splattered me.

Surprisingly, my father never tried to pursue me past our property line. It was obvious where I went each tenth, but he never tried to track me down. Then, whenever I returned home, he would question where I went, feigning obliviousness.

His comments were scathing and reeking of sarcasm. "How was your tenth out on the town? I sure hope you didn't waste the beautiful weather in some stuffy classroom."

My mom was always the one to talk him down from his rage, but it wasn't like she approved of my actions either. She was just far less vocal about her opinions. She instead would talk to me before bed each night begging me to stay home the next tenth and help with the farm as opposed to going out to learn. "Please just listen to your father, he knows what's best after all."

A slamming door snapped me out of my thoughts. Still, I waited for a few more moments. I performed another nervous repetition and wiped my hands on my jeans; I scratched my curly haired head before pulling its gravity-defying locks down to my shoulders. Nothing happened, but I could hear shouting from inside the house. No one responded to the angry cries of my father.

Deeming it safe to come out from behind the trash can, I leaped out of my hiding spot and sprinted madly towards town. My dad spotted me and began to yell for me to come back, but I was already too far away for him to do anything. He could try to chase after me, but it would be futile. I dashed past the neighbors and was on the edges of town when I took a moment to catch my breath. I was long gone when dad finally went back to his mundane chores, probably grumbling about my behavior. I barely saw his figure retreat into the closing door from my high ground position up the hill.

"He gives up too easily," I chuckled.

I smiled and continued my walk to school in a more leisurely manner now, forcing myself to take deep breaths. My slower breathing helped return my heart rate to normal and put my mind back at ease. My nerves felt frayed and my body was shaking. I knew I had the skill to get away, but that didn't stop me from feeling the anxiety that came with performing such rebellious acts daily. Kids often called me a coward when I was younger because of my tendency to shake and come to the verge of tears far too often. I tried to stay in a positive mindset where I continually told myself that they were wrong. However, deep down, I couldn't help but agree with them.

The school was almost a straight shot from my house through town, but it still remained out of my view. First, I had to march through the shallow buildings that populated my home village.

I waved to other people that were out and about on their morning strolls or opening up shop to the world. Some of them would give a friendly wave, or even called me out by name if I visited them often for chores and deliveries. There were no other teenagers out spare for a few that stayed with their families and their solidified trades. Most others were already where I was intending to be soon.

Still, the hollow feeling of loneliness haunted the townspeople's words. They were only performing formalities, not actually greeting me with jubilee. It was hard to remember that sometimes when I kept my nose in books that preached of kinder worlds.

"Oh, Sophia!" a scathing voice sang.

"Great," I hissed. I spun around to face my taunter, Patrick. I had been hoping to avoid him since I was already running late. Or rather, as late as one can be in a world without time.

His annoyingly pale face pissed me off. It was so white he could've been a ghost-type. His fire red hair and the freckles that salted his cheeks were the only instances of color in his otherwise white appearance. Even his standard-issue nurse uniform was white.

"What do you want, Patrick?" I demanded to know.

"Hey, don't take that tone with me. Aren't we friends?" he said as he put his arm around me. I shrank away as best as I could from his hand on my shoulder, but he pulled me in tighter each time I flinched away.

"Hey now, don't be like that," he continued. "You know, since we're friends, can you help me out?"

"I don't have any food to give you. I'm going to school, not the store."

He gasped. "Doesn't your father forbid that?"

"Don't remind me," I mumbled.

"Well, you must have packed a lunch, didn't you? Can't you help a pal out? Or maybe, I'll just have to help you return home to your old man. He must be worried sick."

I desperately wanted to run away and hide right now. If I had a head start, I could run for the hills and back before he even passed a hundred meters. He had the lanky legs of a runner, but he didn't use them as the son of the town medic. My muscular legs from farm work and doing errands could easily outrun him and most other kids in town. It's why I excelled at hide and seek. Even when I was found—which was a feat in and of itself—I would take off running and wouldn't look back. No one could contest.

Confrontation was a different story.

"Fine," I said eventually. I fished out an apple from my gray-colored jacket's pocket and forced it into his waiting palm. I continued my walk without looking back at him.

"Hey now, I think you're holding out on me," he said. I ignored it.

"I don't have anything else," I lied.

"Do friends lie to each other?"

I made the mistake of stopping to look back at his shit eating grin. He stood there with his other hand outstretched, clenching his fingers occasionally in a grabbing motion.

"Why do we have to do this every time you see me? You're the son of the town medics, you get enough since their job is considered Vital," I said.

"Last time I checked, farming was in the Vital category too. Teaching or whatever you're learning at school is not," he replied.

"That's not why I go to school every tenth."

"Then would you care to enlighten me about your motives?" His smile grew even more despite me believing that was physically impossible. "Or, maybe you can give me that delicious sandwich that I know your mother packed for you."

My eyes narrowed as I stared down the boy that was inching closer to me. He was too close for me to be able to run now, I had missed my window of opportunity.

Still, I turned to stalk away with my sandwich in tow, and I immediately regretted it.

The sudden force from behind caused me to stumble to my knees. I caught myself with my hands on the dusty street. The palms of my hands burned, and I turned them over to see little droplets of blood forming in between the pebbles that clung to the pale skin on my hands.

"Don't make me take it," Patrick threatened from above.

"Fine, take your stupid sandwich. I didn't want it anyway," I grumbled as I reached into my backpack and removed the wrapped delicacy.

"Hey, thanks, pal!" Patrick said smugly.

I didn't stick around in case he had any more trouble in mind for me. Instead, I sprinted the rest of the way through town. My head stayed bowed even as people greeted me; they didn't mean it, I know they didn't.

I only slowed once I came to the crest of the hill that marked the edge of town. I gazed down the hill as I massaged my palms; the scrapes still stung a bit as I touched them. The only things beyond the natural border were the school building and the lumber yards. The valley below had blackened trees surrounding the building on all sides except for the side facing the village. The school building sat in stark contrast to the rest of the decaying wood.

Long ago, back when time flowed, supposedly these same trees grew with vibrant green leaves. Now, they remained as glorified logs pointing straight up to the sky, looking like toothpicks sticking straight out of a table. The idea of small green objects—called "leaves," I remembered reading one time—populating their trunks was foreign to me. I couldn't imagine plush blankets covering the blackened trunks without laughing. Yet, something inside of me knew it was how it ought to be.

I walked down the steep hill alone. Everyone else was already inside. Showing up "late" was a bad habit of mine usually caused by my parents. The clock hanging above the school reminded me that I was always out of time; we all were, and that there was no true measure of "late" or "on time." The carving was only that: a carving. There was no real way to measure time, at least, not anymore. The sculpture had never worked, and it never would. Its circular face was dead to the world and its hands remained tied up in the supposed last moments when time flowed.

I mixed in with the last few stragglers outside of the door. They gave me odd looks as I walked through their gathering and into the building. They didn't appear to have any intentions of going inside. That or I was covered in an abhorrent amount of mud. Probably both. I made my way through the silent halls to my homeroom. With my ear pressed to the door, I waited for an appropriate time to barge in.

The teacher, Cindy, dropped her notebook on the desk with a thump then began. "Alright class, let's begin the lecture. We will be discussing the myths of the Trainers that people used to believe in and worship long ago in the Before."

Now was my time. I opened the door as quietly as possible and grabbed the empty desk in the front row closest to the door. I gathered the disapproving gaze of the teacher, but she moved on with nothing more than a huff. One misbehaving student was too little of a concern to her; just so long as she got paid at the end of a cycle—a unit made of the combination of ten tenths—she didn't care.

The lecture dragged on in an almost monotone voice. Cindy was rambling about ancient myths where Pokémon and humans used to work together as a team. Six Pokémon and one human, together as one to defeat an ultimate challenge set up by gods known as "The League." The story was preposterous to me. _Why would a Pokémon, nonetheless six, let a human command them? If I were to try that out in the woods somewhere, I would get killed._

The teacher continued her lecture, but it didn't quite capture the excitement that came directly from history in the form of ancient books. So, my mind wandered, drowning out the background noise. _What if it_ is _possible to work with Pokémon? Work would be so much easier._ I found myself looking out the window and daydreaming about the wildlife in the forest. _What if they worked and lived as we do? Scrambling for survival in a world without time. This apocalyptic world can't be much kinder to them than it is to us, right?_

My hand continued to halfheartedly write notes that matched the teacher's chalkboard scribbles. _Do they have records of time and the Before as well? Or are they as uncivilized as the Elders claim? Surely if they worked with humans in the past, they have to have some semblance of civility._ On the edge of my paper, my heart roamed free with doodles of Pokémon I had read about in science class. I drew a Pokémon called Weedle from memory as best as I could; a bug type we had dissected the week before. Halfway through my recreation, a ruler slammed down furiously on my hand, forcing me to drop my pencil with a cry.

The teacher scolded me with nothing more than a glare and then continued her class without missing a heartbeat. I looked down to see my drawing slashed through with a thick black line. I went to pick up the writing utensil again, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. My hand paused as my heart urged me to get up and leave. _There's no point to all of this, why do I come here anyway? To let teachers torture me with their useless lessons? Mom and dad are right, there is no point to school._

I glanced towards the window again, refusing to continue participating in class anymore. The woods glanced back with darkness and sorrow. Their dead barks gray and ashen, leading to a deeper, more foreboding darkness beyond. Suddenly, a flicker of green dashed across one of the trunks.

 _A wild Pokémon!_ I watched the creature dance on the trees with more interest now. It climbed swiftly upwards, then slid back down as if searching for a missing something. I cocked my head as I watched its curious antics. _I've never seen anything so green and vibrant, not even crops or the tamed grass-types. What is it?_

I found myself mesmerized by the creature as it climbed up onto the window sill, closer now, allowing me to see details. It appeared so innocent compared to the rest of the world; vibrant colors outstanding the dark grays. But even still, I noticed a fire in its eyes that subtracted from its innocence and added a fighting spirit to it. Like it was defiantly opposing the world that it contrasted from so much. It met my gaze and stared back for a moment before flicking its tail and moving on.

I yelped as another smack hit my knuckles. The teacher decided this time that I was worth a stern head shaking. She sighed as she turned back to the chalkboard to write more notes. I forced myself to stop daydreaming for real this time and actually participate in learning. The class only had a few notes more before the teacher decided on a whim that she was done. She decided so quickly and suddenly when she was done that it left me with whiplash. Sometimes, we wouldn't even have class and she would just fail to show up without warning, leaving us confused and lonely in an empty classroom.

I packed up my notebook in my sack and slung it over my shoulder. I melded with the flow of people out into the hallway until I felt something grab my shoulder and spin me around. It was Cindy. Her deep scowl indicated that she was not happy.

"Just who do you think you are that you can zone out during my class?" she demanded.

I bowed my head. "I'm sorry." It was only a half-hearted apology, something to appease her anger. I couldn't bring myself to actually apologize for an uncontrollable itch. The need to learn fueled me to dream about the Before and about the world around us, and her class couldn't provide me with that same fire that books provided.

It happened in a flash. Her hand moved swiftly; the red-hot sensation lasted for only a moment, but the stinging lingered. I touched my cheek where her palm had slapped me.

She rolled her eyes at me, then turned away to return to her room. "Don't let it happen again," she commanded.

I stood there holding my cheek in the crowd of people milling in the hallway. No one came to my aid, no one even so much as cast a glance at me. I was alone in a sea of faces that only cared about themselves and their own survival in this harsh world. I was the only one that actually cared about the important questions of this life: why and how?


	4. Partners

"Let it go Treecko. She wasn't—"

"How can I just let it go, Mankey? A human actually looked at me and didn't just scream bloody murder. They never do that." Treecko was instead amazed that the girl had sat quietly and watched him. "I mean, come on, are humans even capable of that? They usually go running away on their dumb, tall back legs."

Mankey shook his head while sighing. "Do not go mixing in with the humans. If fighting with the world out here doesn't get you killed," he waved to the forest, "talking to them will."

"You don't know that," Treecko responded nonchalantly. He then began to theorize, "Maybe she can help me get into the library and find what I need. After all, we have seen her go in and out of that building."

He turned away from the human building to face Mankey. He was looking at Treecko with a twisted face of rage and confusion. His eye twitched and his mouth was open in an expression of disbelief. "Are you kidding me right now!" he screamed. The branch above their heads shook as a Murkrow flew off at Mankey's shriek. "Do you even know what humans do when they catch small Pokémon like us?"

Treecko didn't even get a chance to think before Mankey continued shouting. "Seriously, humans are animals. They capture Miltanks in the most barbaric ways with traps and rope, then they make them fuck just so that they can have babies, then they eat the parents, and make the children do it all over again. I've watched their classes where they literally slice open Weedles and Caterpies for fun.

"Honestly, why did Dialga allow such horrific monsters to evolve? Too bad they can't evolve past this phase. Seriously, I bet they were so much better before Dialga went insane. They probably had another stage of evolution they could've reached like we were able to. Damn that insane son of a bitch, causing the whole world to go to sh—"

"Enough!" Treecko shouted, commanding his friend into silence. He shook his head, clearing away the negative emotions Mankey had just implanted. "I don't want to make friend with the human, I only need the information this girl obviously has access to. We've never seen anyone else her age walking in and out of their sacred building; only old farts that look too stuck up for their own good. I highly doubt they would be gullible enough to help us out. This girl, however, might be stupid enough to get me inside."

"Why does this mean so much to you anyway? It's just a stupid book filled with footprint runes. Can you even _read_ footprint runes?" Mankey asked critically.

Sighing, Treecko turned to his friend. His friend knew the answer to that question, and Treecko was tired of having to prove himself. Instead of entertaining Mankey with an answer, Treecko instead posed a simple question, "Do you know what a Primeape is?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said, do you know what a Primeape is?" he repeated.

Mankey huffed, "Why the hell wouldn't I know what my evolution is? That was a dumb question." His chest was puffed out, overly proud of himself for being able to answer an intentionally easy question.

"Well," Treecko continued, "What if I told you that you could _become_ a Primeape." A smile flickered across his face. He was proud of his plan, and he wanted Mankey to know it.

Instead of awe and wonder though, Mankey's response was only laughter; loud, guffawing laughter. "Oh my Dialga," he wheezed, "You are full of such Tauros shit, Treecko." He sounded like he was trying to say something else but was unable to because of his laughter. Instead, Mankey just fell over and continued giggling, gasping for air in between laughs.

Instead of waiting around for his friend to finish, Treecko just turned and walked away. He did not have to take these insults from his friend. He moved through the spiny bushes to an opening where a swarm of humans was exiting their building. They lingered, but not for long before continuing on up the hill towards more buildings. Occasionally, they would stop and have conversations with each other before continuing on their own paths away from the school. Scanning the crowd slowly, he did not see any sign of the girl.

Thumping footsteps sounded from behind him. He whipped around, his tail hardening up in preparation to attack. Mankey bundled out of the bramble, grabbed Treecko with a firm grip, and yanked him back into the cover of darkness. "What do you think you're doing, you fucking idiot?"

Treecko tried to struggle away from his friend, but just couldn't build up the strength to force his friend off of him. "I'm getting that damn book, and you can't stop me." He had completely lost his patience. Still in Mankey's grip, Treecko bit off some twigs, chewed them up, and mixed them in his mouth with some seeds and his spit. Taking a deep breath through his nose alerted Mankey of what he was about to do, but it was too late. The fighting type couldn't prepare for what happened next.

An explosion of seeds mixed with sharp twigs exploded from Treecko's mouth, nailing Mankey in the face at point-blank range with a bullet seed attack. Mankey was forced to let go of Treecko's tail and tend to his now wounded face. The short window where Mankey was distracted gave Treecko all the time he needed to escape. The grass-type jumped for a tree trunk the second he felt the pressure on his tail let up. Mankey was the better climber, but Treecko was faster.

He climbed to the first branch then sprang forward as far as he could. The branch snapped under his rough motions, catching the attention of the humans at the edge of the crowd. The dead limb fell and landed a direct hit on Mankey's head. The Pokémon slumped down immediately upon impact. Treecko knew the blow wouldn't keep him down long, so he had to keep moving with no time to waste. His friend was a fighter and had too much rage for his own good. Mankey would come after Treecko with a fury for what he had just done once he came around.

Running straight into the thick of it, Treecko felt his surge of adrenaline ebb away as a sense of dread settled in. The crowd was enormous from the inside, despite knowing what it actually looked like from an outsider's point of view. The human's talking all at once threw Treecko off as well, their chattering felt overwhelming to his sensitive ears. Their forms loomed over him, reminding him of his size and place in the world. Treecko felt frozen in place. That was, until he heard a roar coming from the woods. _Shit, he's up already?!_

Dashing madly through the crowd now, Treecko searched frantically for the girl. He dodged feet, and bags, and anything else that the humans threw at him. He had to force his limbs to move through the fear that controlled his being. _They're trying to get me with anything they can get their hands on. What is wrong with these things?_ They were beginning to circle around him, much like a pack of angry Houndour would. He had no choice but to run towards their building, which he knew was a horrible idea. The crowd had intentionally left the path to school unblocked, and Treecko had no option but to take the bait.

They were beginning to shout ugly things at him. Phrases such as "Kill it!" and "Smash its head in!" were beginning to go around. _Mankey was right, the things are horribly barbaric. I have no choice but to do what they're forcing me to._ He ran straight for the doors, catching them off guard slightly. No one pursued at first until one screamed "Chase him," and they did with thundering footsteps.

Treecko was running ragged now; his breaths were becoming shakier and shakier, and his legs felt like they were burning. Usually, out in the woods, he would've been able to climb to safety, away from his chasers, allowing for a moment of rest. Here, the walls were shiny and smooth, displaying no amount of traction. The wood used to construct them covered in a weird wax to give them a slippery shine. Treecko had nowhere to climb. That was, until he saw her.

The girl was moving towards him further down the hallway, rubbing her cheek while casting wary glances at the people around her. _Thank Dialga,_ Treecko thought to himself. _This is my lucky break._ He took a few strides between pairs of legs to throw off the crowd, purposely overshooting the girl's location. He pivoted, slipping slightly on the smooth ground, then took a giant, awkward leap up and onto the girl's bag. He barely grabbed on to it due to his poor jump; the slippery coverings that humans used had tripped him up again. The bag was shut by a zipper that he didn't have time to operate, so he instead wedged himself in between her back and her bag. He watched the crowd run by from his crevice; they still thought he was running down the hallway.

She shivered violently at the new creature attached to her shirt. The sensation must have been as weird for her as it was for Treecko. She reached behind her and swatted at the backpack, but Treecko was too wedged in to be hit by her attacks. He snickered, "Dumb two-leg, you can't hit me in this spot. Your bag is protecting me."

"Stop touching me!" she screamed. The crowd moving past looked at her strangely, but she didn't seem to notice. She was too preoccupied with Treecko. "Seriously, stop!" She was beginning to cry now. "Stop, stop, stop, stop!"

She whipped around, causing Treecko to lose his grip, but he regained it quickly by collecting her shirt and a bit of her hair in his palm. This caused the girl to freak out even more. Treecko could hear her hit someone with a weak strike; her small fist contacting with someone else's skin. The person didn't respond too kindly and shoved her back with a greater force. Her body hit the wall, which in turn slammed her bag into Treecko. He yelped out in pain. The blow jarred his senses, leaving him in a daze.

More people were beginning to jostle the girl—and Treecko—around between them. Each push and shove forced the girl's bag into Treecko's body. His vision was getting dark from all of the hits her bag forced into his head. _I'm going to die,_ thought Treecko through the haze that settled in his brain. His fragile, leafy body could only take so much wear and tear before ripping. After an uncomfortable amount of time later, the girl finally escaped by shoving herself directly backward and into a dark room.

The swift motion left Treecko confused. He heard a clicking sound, then a _clunk_ as light filled the room and the girl sighed. She sets her bag down on the ground then dropped to her knees. Treecko felt himself move forward slightly with her body's motion. Taking what might have been his only chance, he emerged from his hiding place. His head throbbed due to the collisions he had endured.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" he cried. "Why are all two legs so damn violent? Even the ones that are getting beat up are annoying. Seriously, what is wrong with you?" he had begun to shout at the girl now. "Honestly, I thought you were different, you seemed so nice compared to the others, always running away when they tried to beat you up. Honestly," he rolled his eyes and faced the wall now, "I should just try getting into the library myself."

The girl's sobbing grew louder as she pulled her head up from her arms. "I already get enough crap from humans, I don't need it from you as well." She plopped her head back down into her hands, letting more sobs overtake her frail figure.

"Yeah, well, you obviously deserve it," Treecko said. He hopped up to the ledge by the door, attempting to figure out the lock in order to escape. It took his mind a moment to register what the girl had just said. Specifically, what she said in response to _his_ words _._ "Woah, woah, woah, wait," Treecko spun around slowly, waving his arms back and forth across his body, "You just understood me?"

"Yeah," she sniffed quietly. She looked up now, her eyes and nose were crusted with liquids that were threatening to pour out, "Why do you ask?"

Treecko now looked at her with a slack jaw. _She really doesn't get it._ He started speaking, cut himself off, then began again in a way he deemed correct. "Humans and Pokémon are not supposed to be able to communicate. We can understand what you all are saying, but you're not supposed to understand us. I was honestly hoping just now that you were faking understanding me because you hit your head, but now I realize that you're just an honest to Dialga freak."

"Oh, right, I read that in a book one time," she whimpered, looking off to the side. "I should've known that. I'm so stupid!" Her bottom lip was still quivering. _What a wimp,_ Treecko thought with disgust.

He was about to tell the girl off but stopped himself short of actually doing so. His brain kept his mouth in check by reminding him that he needed her; more specifically, he needed her access. _I have to transition the conversation to the library._ "Wait," he began," A book you said? Where did you see this book?" He was lucky she had just mentioned that.

"In the town library," she responded shortly. Her tone and face refused to give more away.

"Really? That's so cool," Treecko's voice feigned surprise. _Come on, make it believable._ "Can I see this book? I'm interested in finding out why you are different. Maybe the secret lies in these books that you read."

The girl glared at him, waiting a few seconds before answering. "I don't know who you are, and plus, you just made fun of me. Give me one good reason why I should show you anything." Her voice was firm, but her eyes betrayed her confidence.

"Because, you are obviously in need of a friend right now. Well, guess what, so am I. My friend just said, 'screw you,' and left me." Treecko fudged the details of his and Mankey's parting, it wasn't like she would ever know. "He and I were investigating time stopping, and why we can't evolve at the Springs anymore." He chose his next words carefully, "You're interested in knowing about the Before as well, aren't you?"

She looked up quickly, her tears were almost completely dried when she heard about the pair's investigation. Realizing her mistake, she looked away again, coyly replying, "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

Treecko had no choice now, he rubbed his neck as he tried to word his next move. He had one last card to play, "I've seen you entering and leaving that place before. I know you can get in there, and I know you shouldn't be. I've seen the signs, I know it's forbidden." Her eyes glazed over, and her cheeks paled; she was trapped now. "If you help me get in, I won't alert your leaders next time I spot you going in there."

She paused, sniffing slightly. Her nose wrinkled then released again as she looked around. Her eyes went up to the ceiling and her head followed. Her brown hair cascaded down her back; long and straight with tangles from getting shoved around. Her eyes teared up, she had to blink them away to retain her calm appearance; Treecko knew it was just a ruse. _There is no way she can back out of this,_ Treecko thought.

He snickered, and jumped down in front of the girl again, "Well," he brought himself closer to her face, "I guess I'll have to spoil your fun next time. Thanks for nothing." He started to turn away, but the girl jabbed her hand out at Treecko.

Scowling directly at him now, she said, "Fine, you have a deal." She left her hand floating in the air, as if waiting for Treecko to do something. He tentatively reached a paw out, then pulled away. He slowly reached forwards again and pulled back once more. Impatiently, she took the initiative and grabbed Treecko's paw with her left hand and placed it in her right one. He flinched, unsure of what she was doing, but let her hand envelop his. She shook them up and down twice, then let go. "It's called a handshake, idiot," she explained, "It's how humans show agreement."

"I see," Treecko mumbled while nodding. "Well, I hope that this leads to a beneficial partnership." He spun to leave, but then added, "I'm Treecko, by the way."

"Sophia," she responded. "Climb back in my bag and I'll take you to the library."

Doing as commanded, Treecko clambered up Sophia's leg and onto her bag as she swung it back into position. He unzipped the pouch and slid down inside, resting comfortably on top of her books. They smelled of mold and age, and their covers seemed to be falling apart under Treecko's weight. "Are these stolen from the library?" he inquired.

"Not stolen, per se," she trailed off. "How about borrowed? Because, I do plan to return them. I was actually going to head to the library after school before we had this little encounter," she said the word "encounter" with poison in her voice. Like an Ekans, hissing at an unwelcome stranger.

"Great, then this works for the both of us. Let's get on with it," Treecko said, "Or else, you know what happens if I don't get my way."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it you little shit," she hissed again. "Let's just get on with it already. I'll let you out once we get there. Until then, stay quiet and stay out of sight."

Treecko slumped back with his hands behind his head. "You got it chief," he said with a half-smile on his face. This whole ordeal had been far too easy.


	5. The Secret Library

The library's main towers punctured the sky, or rather, it only appeared that they did since they towered over the rest of the buildings. The architecture was based on ancient human cathedrals combined with the simplicity of a town hall. Piercing spires rose up from the two front corners of the building. They served as the beginning and ending points of the pillars that lined the north wall. Two identical circular windows were bored into the two spires. Their images? Clocks. Another haunting reminder directly in the center of town reminding us of our doomed predicament.

I walked up the steps and into the main door. No adult paid any mind to me; they were all too busy with their hushed, hurried political talk. The Elders and their wannabes milled around in the foyer. Their stark white robes fell across their bodies—and in most cases, across a fat gut—and seemed to meld with the red floor beneath them. The meeting chamber was on the upper floor of the facility, which was connected to the main floor with twin staircases on either side of the foyer.

Due to the large number of people crowded around near the steps, I assumed that their recess was almost over. Soon, they would retreat upstairs again to continue whatever political nonsense they concerned themselves with. That left me with an opening to do my dirty work.

Politics interested me very little. I would usually zone out during town meetings where the Elders' wannabes would update us on what they discussed during their meetings. It always went something like "Crops this, the school that, the wild Pokémon are acting up again, blah blah blah." Attending these meetings was never my choice; my parents always forced me into it, insisting that it was important to be an active member of the community.

As I strode into the library, I couldn't help but cringe at the book that suddenly jabbed into my spine. "Knock it off," I hissed at Treecko. His limbs flailed around in my bag, forcing another book into my back. People were beginning to cast glares at me.

"I can't help it! There's no room in here," Treecko defended. "Are we almost there?"

"Yeah, we're literally in the building as we speak. Be quiet," I commanded. This little guy was already beginning to get on my nerves. Oh please, let this book be all he needs from me.

I did my best to ignore the pain. Standing up as straight as possible, I continued walking toward the front desk, hoping that my façade of normal was good enough to convince the other patrons.

I smiled to myself as I noticed who was the head librarian of this shift. "Hey, Elder Emanuel, how's it going?"

He returned my smile as he rose from his crouched position with a stack of books in hand. The balding elder placed the books down on the desk between us with a thud and a sigh before answering, "Well, politics have become more complicated lately; wild Pokémon are beginning to invade town more often, and the world is still in a state of existing outside of time." He paused a moment, then laughed. "In other words, I am excellent as usual. What about you my fair Sophia?"

I shrugged and put my arms up on the desk, one folded under the other with my chin resting in my hand. "I've been okay. Kids are beating me up less and less in school, so that's a plus. I walk home with fewer bruises which makes my parents more inclined to let me go back."

"Excellent," Emanuel said. He grabbed the book on the top of his pile and opened to its front cover. He placed a stamp with his initials on it, proving he received it back from whoever borrowed it last, then placed it to the side and moved on to repeat the same process with the next book. "I'm assuming you're here to return some..." He paused in the middle of his sentence to look right, then left, then back at me. "...sensitive material." He was kind enough to keep my illegal activities a secret.

I nodded as I slid a regular library book across the table. "Yeah, just here to return another book. Might go pick one up from the dusty non-fiction section too." That was our code for the secret section of books. "See if anything over there catches my eye."

I turned to walk away when Emanuel called me back, "Sophia, please wait a moment." I retraced my last few steps so that I was standing directly in front of him again. My heart pounded, scared he had seen the wiggling backpack as I strode away. I wasn't sure if the man's tolerance would extend to bringing Pokémon into a public place. He leaned down under the desk as I backtracked. His tan head just barely peaked over the top of the surface. He returned to his full height a moment later with a book in his hand. Setting it down, he explained, "I figured it might help with the bullies."

Emanuel slid the book over to me, and I picked it up. "Thanks," I said while looking at the cover. I exhaled, and my heart rate began to slow to normal again. It read: How to Fight Like a Fighting-Type. The small brown sticker on the spine and front indicated that he had pulled it from the non-fiction section. I smiled at him as I slung my bag forward to put the book away.

Treecko raised his hands at me, silently asking, "What are you doing?" I nudged him out of the way with the corner of my new book, then slid it down next to the forbidden book that I had been carrying. I intentionally swung my backpack around my shoulder hard. Treecko squeaked as he connected with my back. "See you later, Elder Emanuel," I said to muffle Treecko's cry. The old man waved his goodbye to me, not suspecting a thing.

I made my way over to the non-fiction section, which was smaller in size compared to the rest of the library. Many of the books that were once here were deemed either too volatile to society or had become decrepit since no one wanted to read books about the real world. The Elders decided it was best to lock them up underground. Instead, the fantasy and fiction sections were full to the brim with colorful books to keep people's minds off of the impending moment when humanity would die out of this world. We were already so close to the end, losing numbers with each generation. I, on the other hand, wanted to know why. _Why are we still here?_ was one of the questions that drove me to find knowledge.

I slid my hand deep into the bookshelf and into a crevice in the wall. No one paid attention to the non-fiction section, a wall separated it from the rest of the library. However, I still felt the need to hurry in the rare event that someone ended up walking by. My hand grasped for an invisible lever. Finally, my fingers found the rough wood of the well-hidden device, wrapping my fingers around it and pulling. The shelf swung open slightly, allowing enough space for a person to fit through. I squeezed my small frame in, then closed the passageway behind me quickly.

The stairs down were well lit by a colorful variety of torches and candles. My guess was the original builders mustered up whatever light sources they could and put them in, and that was the reason for the mismatched lighting. The stairs curled down for what I guessed was about twenty feet then opened up to a circular room. Tall bookshelves were chalked full of ancient writings. The smell hit me the second I walked in; the stench of the musty, dirty underground room was overwhelming yet comforting to me. This was like my home away from home, and every time that smell hit, it reminded me that I was safe and surrounded by such great writings.

The ash-colored table in the middle creaked slightly when I set my bag on it; its old bones ached with the new weight. The table held strong though, not wavering for a second. I unzipped the bag, saying, "Okay, you can come out now."

Treecko's head popped out, looking around at his new surroundings. He crawled out on all fours, then stretched up to his hind legs after clearing his tail of my bag. "Humph, finally! I thought I would never get out of that jail you put me in. Next time try not to kill me with your belongings." He side-eyed me as he brushed the dust off.

"Next time don't be such a jerk," I retorted. I began to pull the two books out of my bag to return them on their appropriate shelves. "Honestly, at least be a little bit grateful that I didn't actually kill you. Believe me, I wanted to after your rude introduction earlier, but I figured I didn't want to stoop to your level." With the books back in their places, I moved to grab the ladder from the corner of the room.

Treecko leaped onto the ladder as I began to yank it towards the middle of the room. "Don't forget what I said, I will turn you in," he warned. "And based on what I heard of your conversation with Emanuel—Emanuel, right? —it sounds like you _really_ don't belong down here."

Ignoring his threats, I dragged the ladder back to the center of the shelves. "I'm getting your book, finding a new book for me, and then we're getting out of here. What exactly are you looking for?"

He bounded across the top of the shelves to the section of books that I was positioned in front of. "I wouldn't know the exact title, but it would be written in footprint runes. It's about evolution. Is there anything like that here?" He didn't hesitate to crawl up and down the shelves, searching for the title he craved.

I thought over all of the titles I had seen, trying to recall any that were in the ancient Pokémon language. I strode over to the second to the right shelf and began looking through the titles. All of the books in this section were about Pokémon, but they were all written by humans about observations of Pokémon. None seemed to be written by the actual source. "I don't think there is anything like that in here."

"There has to be. You humans, uh, stole it from us at one point. If you don't have it, then it's nowhere and this was all for nothing. This is the last time that I trust Mankey," he huffed. He clung to the shelves with his two back paws with his tail curled under him as an extra support. He flipped through one book, then tossed it to the ground while pulling out the next one.

I glared at him out of the corner of my eye while pulling out a book of my own. "Please have more respect for our treasured history than that," I said as I bent down to pick up the mess he was making. I decided to set them on the table until he was done throwing things like the wild Pokémon he was.

He snorted as he discarded another book. "Only if you humans have more respect for us. Remember, I'm here looking for a stolen book. I only want to return it to our kind." That was a blatant lie, but I wasn't going to question him about it. Treecko was older than I gave him credit for. He probably could've been a few years older than me if I thought of his age in human years; the ratio of Pokémon to human years was not one to one for most species. If he was searching for a book on evolution, it was probably time for him to become whatever stage two was in his chain.

I abandoned helping him in exchange for looking through the grass-type book. It was an encyclopedia of sorts, containing all currently known grass-types. I flipped back to the "T" section and found the entry on "Treecko." It was a poorly drawn sketch that only vaguely represented the little bastard that was throwing books around next to me. The next picture was that of a Pokémon named Grovyle. It looked like an older Treecko for sure, but, much like any evolution, there were many differences.

The picture showed a split tail with two long, sharp leaves. The head and arms also gained foliage. The group of leaves protruding on the arms looked sharp as well; two perfect weapons for fending off predators. However, the leaf on top flopped lazily down to its feet, only acting as a sort of aesthetic. A note on the side of the page read " _Head leaf possibly only for attracting mates (i.e. longer and softer leaves were more attractive than shorter and sharper ones)._ "

"Is that me?" a voice behind me asked. I jumped and spun to face the source of the voice. Treecko stared at the book with wide, shining eyes. He climbed onto my shoulder then craned his head to look at the illustration. "Grovyle," he whispered, "He looks so cool!"

I moved over to the table, keeping my head tilted away from Treecko in order to give him a better perch. I placed the book down, leaving it open to the page with his evolutionary line on it. "Here, knock yourself out while I clean up your mess." Treecko might have acted like a huge jerk, but I couldn't blame him for his thirst for knowledge.

I turned to begin picking up his cluttered pile of books. The stack rose several books high before I walked back over to the shelves to put them in their proper spots. Something struck me as peculiar as I began to place books in their original locations: there was a small slot in the back of the shelf, much like the one etched into wall leading to the secret passageway upstairs.

"Treecko, did you notice this when you were pulling books?" I asked the preoccupied Pokémon.

He turned to look at what I was referring to, turned back to his book, but then did a double take a heartbeat later. "No, no I did not," he finally answered. He leaped onto my shoulder to use it as a push off to jump over to the shelf. "What is it? It looks like it could be a secret—"

"—Like a secret doorway…" I finished for him. "It looks exactly like the one upstairs. I bet there is something behind this shelf." Hesitantly, I put my hand inside the crevice and searched around for a lever. Sure enough, I found it, resting in the exact same spot as the one I was familiar with upstairs. "This is crazy. I have to know what's in here," I said to no one in particular as I pulled the lever towards myself.

The shelf swung forward slightly, revealing another secret space beyond the main forbidden section. Doing what no sane person would do, I didn't hesitate to squeeze myself through the new gap. I felt Treecko pull my hair backward, urging me to rethink what I was doing, but no one could stop me. I had to know what was so secret that they kept it behind, not just one, but two hidden doors.

I took a good look at the room around us. It reminded me of the principal's office at school. The desk was a rich dark wood with a glossy finish. The lighting seemed to reflect off of the red carpet to give the dark-colored shelves a red hue. The white candles all matched and were spaced around the room uniformly. This room was designed to give off a feeling of power.

The only thing that contrasted the blood red room was a single blue orb on a pedestal in the center of the room. As I walked closer to it, the first thing I noticed was its odd shape. The orb was not completely spherical, but rather had many flat surfaces that made up an orb shape. Its surface glowed a cool blue, but the center seemed to shine with a dark orange aura. It made me uneasy to look at for a long time.

Behind the desk was a banner. It was the only other thing in the room with a splash of blue. The mosaic of trimmed pieces of fabric resembled a fan of silver and blue thorns. The sight should have been soothing to the eyes in a room of blood reds and oranges, but even the cooler toned pattern had darker patterns sewn into them. Around the pattern in the middle were five blue gears.

"Hey, Treecko, what's on this banner?" I asked. I thought that since he was a Pokémon, he might know what it was.

Instead, he ignored my question. "Sophia, I get that we're already not supposed to be down here, but I have this feeling that we _really_ shouldn't be in here," Treecko whispered to me.

"What, are you scared now?" I didn't hesitate to poke fun at Treecko. "Relax, all of the Elders are upstairs in a meeting. They won't be free to come down here until afterward. Plus, none of them will come down here immediately, it will take them a little bit." I was convincing myself as well as Treecko. "Also, they probably don't come down here too often," I added, trying to add an extra layer of security to my words. The cobwebs that clung to the corners of the new opening confirmed that suspicion.

"You say that now, but you don't know that for a fact," Treecko responded. "And if we are caught, I'm throwing all of the blame on…"

He trailed off. I turned my head to look at him, but he was already gone from my shoulder. He had fallen down to the floor so that he could run over to a bookshelf. He climbed up to the top shelf and pulled a book out to examine it. I tried to read the front cover, only to discover that I couldn't as it was written in a different language.

"Footprint runes," Treecko whispered. He began flipping through pages as fast as an electric-type.

"This is the book," he said as he held it up for me to see. "I can't believe it, it's actually here. This is exactly what I was looking for."

I moved back out of the second secret room, telling Treecko what I was doing as I went, "I'm grabbing my backpack so that we can take that book with us. Grab anything else interesting that you want."

I picked up my backpack, then proceeded to look for a book that interested me and would potentially interest Treecko. I found precisely the book I needed— _A Collection of Maps of the Explored Area_ —and shoved it into my bag. I planned to stick with Treecko for a while to learn as much as I could about the Pokémon of this world and also to make sure he didn't snitch.

 _This would be a revolutionary discovery_ , I thought to myself as I flipped through the maps. And, it would make for one hell of an adventure.

I decided to also take the book on grass-types. I decided I would add notes as I went, correcting any false information. The possibilities were endless now that Treecko found the book he needed. So many discoveries could happen, and I needed so many books to accompany my learning. I only settled for one more with the title _The Evolution of Pokémon in the After_. It compiled all the knowledge of how Pokémon evolved in the After and how the stagnant flow of time affected their growth. It was a very thin book.

Then, as I was zipping up my backpack, I heard the worst possible noise: the door at the top of the staircase opening. My heart pounded through my chest and my eyes widened. _No, it can't be, no one ever comes down here during meetings_ , I thought. But my worst fears became a reality when I heard voices accompanying the sound of feet at the top of the steps. I was frozen in place, unable to move as the voices grew louder.

My mouth felt dry as I looked at the bottom of the steps. Shadows moved down the steps in front of their owners. I had to act fast in order to avoid getting caught. My only option was to dive into the second secret room and lock the door behind me. It was risky as I had no idea how the door's locking mechanism worked, but if there was a way in, there had to be a way out. Right?

I didn't take the time to debate the risks of my idea and instead threw myself into the other room. I leaned all of my weight into the shelf to slide it back into place. Treecko looked up from his book to see what crazy thing I was doing. His eyes grew huge as he watched the door click shut.

"What in Dialga's name do you think you're doing?" he shouted. He jumped from the shelf to the front of my shirt. I felt his tiny paws grab my cheeks and shake my face, "Why would you do that, we don't know if—"

I grabbed his mouth and held it shut. Then, I pointed to the room we had just come from. With the other hand, I let go of his mouth and held up one finger to my lips; the universal symbol for "Shut the fuck up." Muted voices floated through the wall and into the room where Treecko and I now sat in complete silence. I couldn't comprehend them through the thick bookcase. The Pokémon's eyes widened, and he gasped slightly. He flickered his gaze from the shelf, to me, and back to the shelf.

Finally, he leaned over to my ear and whispered, "I thought you said no one would come down here?"

I hissed back, "No one does. This is the first time I've ever heard another person come down here."

Ignoring our dire situation, I grabbed Treecko's book off the shelf and placed it in my bag with the others. Then for the first time, I looked really hard at the surroundings. My eyes flickered from the orb, to the banner, back to the orb and away again; it was still difficult for my eyes to linger on it for too long.

"Do you feel air?" Treecko asked into my ear.

"What?"

"Do you feel an air flow anywhere? Because I do." He paused for a moment before continuing, "You get what that means, right?"

I thought for a moment, then shook my head. "No, tell me."

Treecko groaned as he gave up the answer, "Oh my Dialga, you would not survive as a Pokémon. There is a potential escape route in this room."

I sighed with relief. "Oh, thank goodness, we're saved."

Treecko pointed to the banner that hung behind the desk. "See that? It's moving slightly. I bet there's a secret passageway behind that flag."

"What is that on the banner?" I asked Treecko again, using a more commanding tone.

"I'll explain it later, but first let's get out of here," Treecko responded. His voice cracked slightly as he spoke with what sounded almost like fear. "Just know that it's very bad."

The situation went from bad to worse when I heard the voices draw closer. People bid farewell as the door into the room swung open slightly. The voices faded back up the steps as the door opened all the way. I didn't stick around to meet the newcomer, and instead, I whisked myself away into the hole behind the banner.


	6. The Dream

My fingertips screamed with pain as they traced the wall of the roughly carved passage. My hand provided the only guidance in the darkness that was behind the cryptic banner in the secret library. My feet ached, screaming almost as much as my hands did with exhaustion. The air hung stagnant on my sweating neck, and I couldn't see any light yet.

Treecko hadn't said anything since we were in the underground room. I wasn't sure if it was from fear of what he saw or because he had run out of sarcastic comments. I hoped it was the latter, as the idea of the snide creature being silent due to a single emblem made my skin crawl. Only his dry breaths broke the silence. The sound bothered me, but I didn't dare say anything in the event that we could still be heard from the hidden room.

Eventually, a light formed at the end of the tunnel. I didn't dare believe it at first; I swore that my eyes were playing tricks on me. But, as it grew brighter and bigger, it was impossible to ignore the way the light danced into the tunnel. I sighed with relief as I picked up my pace.

The rocky maw to the underground was well hidden by a thick of brambles. I broke many of their dry branches as I stumbled out of the ground. The thorns scraped my skin as I emerged from the darkness. The stinging feeling from my broken skin tried to ruin the feeling of freedom, but I didn't dare let it soil the joy I felt.

I sat down to take in the sky above. The permanently overcast moment provided just enough light to take in my surroundings. I was in a clearing that wasn't particularly unique—the same toothpick trees towered over me as far as my eyes could see. The trees and bushes were bare of leaves; thrones exposed themselves to any wild creature that dared to eat it in these trying times, and the few dead strands of grass were trampled underfoot of the thousands of living things that stepped foot here before. It never grew back, so it stayed in its humbled position for another foot to belittle it again.

I laid back onto the grass and stared up into the endless clouds. Their pattern was stuck in a swirled position, coming to an apex at one point far in the distance. The floating island that sat in the center was but a speck in the distance. Tales spoke of a horrid beast that claimed it as its home. The fear instilled in me during my childhood was the reason why I was instructed to never leave town unattended. Legends said that the beast hungered for the souls of lost humans. People that left town rarely came back.

Remembering that fact caused me great unease as I realized my predicament: I had no idea where I was save for the tunnel that led me here. I sat up abruptly, startling Treecko who sat on a rock across the clearing from me.

"We need to get back to town," I said. "I don't know where we need to go. I've never been outside of the boundaries of—"

"It's that way," Treecko said while pointing toward the trees behind me. He let his arm flop down to his side and placed his head on his curled-up knees again.

I looked to where he pointed, squinting to try to see beyond the wooded scenery. My eyes swore that I could see a building in the distance, but I didn't quite believe in my luck to be that close to town. Realizing that I had no other choice, I trusted Treecko enough to steer me in the correct direction. I embarked on my walk home, only taking a few steps forward before noticing that the little creature had not climbed on my back again. I pivoted to see if he was following. He wasn't.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "You don't seem like the type to get easily shaken."

Treecko shook his head from his unwavering position on his pedestal.

"Or, am I wrong?"

Treecko shook his head again. This time, he scowled as he did.

"Then what has you so upset?"

"It's not safe to talk here. Do you have somewhere we can go?" he asked abruptly.

"I do," I began. "First, however, you need to explain what's wrong."

"I don't need to tell you anything," he snapped. I jumped a bit at the increase in volume. "Let's get out of here before something finds us."

Without adding anything else to his outburst, Treecko climbed up my leg and my back, unzipped my bag, and set himself inside next to our books. I stared ahead blankly for a moment before forcing myself forward. I shook my head, obeying the directions Treecko had given me earlier. I feared that if I pestered the creature too much more, he might leave me to wander aimlessly until I got picked off by a rogue Pokémon.

I tried not to think too much as I walked home. Instead, I kept all of my senses focused on my surroundings. Every creaking sound I heard or imagined made me jump, sending me into a whirl as I surveyed my surroundings. After what felt like an eternity, I emerged at the bottom of a steep hill next to the school. The building was dark, save for the room at the end where the tamed Litwick rested. Their normally soothing purple light gave off an eerie feel without other humans around.

The main stretch of the town was a graveyard. The inanimate candles were extinguished, and the Chandelure were surprisingly immobile despite still giving off their characteristic light; their eyes were closed, either ignoring the rest of the world or resting. Nothing else stirred or provided any evidence of life. I knew that the town's guards were hiding in the maze of buildings, but I didn't dare wait around to find their torch-lit patrol.

I continued to hurry through the silent town. Its catatonic state gave it a sense of peace that was not normally found in the last bastion of humanity. Even if time no longer dictated when we slept, our human instincts still told us that rest was needed.

My house was as dark as the rest of the town; its windows and blinds were shut like eyes in a deep slumber. I disturbed the illusion as I quietly opened the door. I shut it quickly yet gently, careful not to cause any commotion. Like a thief, I moved through the house and up the stairs in a way that did not disturb the owners. The only difference was that the owners of this particular house were related to me.

As I opened the door to my room, I heard the worst sound I could imagine: father's heavy footsteps in the room across from mine. Quickly, I opened and closed my door while still making as little noise as I could. My parent's door creaked open behind me, and I could hear my mother trying to coax my father back into bed. He humphed, muttered a few unintelligible things, and closed the door again. I released my held breath and slumped down onto my bed. As soon as I did, Treecko slithered out from the books.

His eyes were aflame, and his face was contorted in a deep scowl. It made me wonder if he had any other emotions besides anger and sarcasm. I signaled for him to wait a few moments longer before speaking. He did so while thumping his tail against my bed in a rhythmic manner, but I didn't mind making him wait. I grabbed an armful of pillows and tucked them into a pile to conceal the crack in the door. My room darkened immensely after shutting the windows and blinds. They were still open from when I escaped to school earlier.

Now soundproof and light-proof, my room provided the perfect atmosphere for discussing the deep secrets of the twice hidden library. I fumbled around with the box of matches tucked in my bedside table. I struck the head against the rough surface on the side of the box, and the light immediately cast shadows against my wall; my figure extended up one side while Treecko's juxtaposed itself on the opposite corner. The light grew softer and more diverse as I lit the candles that rested on my bedside table.

With lighting perfect for reading or sleeping, my body fought over what to do with me. My mind pulled for knowledge, but my aching body screamed for sleep. I ignored the desperate pleas of my ragged bones as I cracked open a book full of maps. I felt like our discovery of the hidden room was a new breakthrough that couldn't wait until after sleep. If I could interpret the maps correctly, and if Treecko could read footprint runes like he promised, then we had something going for us.

I fished out the book for Treecko to start deciphering. Then, I continued to fiddle with the maps. The old parchment crinkled in my hands as I flipped through the pages. I also grabbed a piece of notebook paper and a pen from my backpack. My hand was poised to write down whatever Treecko needed.

His eyes flickered up to me nervously, then back down to the page. He sighed before telling me, "I kind of...lied about being able to read this."

"You _what_?" I hissed. "We risked our necks for a book that you can't even read?"

"Urf, that's not it," he said. He gulped before beginning to explain. "I can barely read this language. I learned it, but I was never any good at translating it. If you let me take it with me, I can come back later with a better translation."

I narrowed my eyes at the grass-type. "Where will you take it?"

"I know someone who can translate this almost flawlessly," he responded.

"Fine," I said to my surprise. I really didn't want him to run off with it, but I knew it was our only shot. My instincts felt queasy about letting the creature slip away with the book we had worked to get. "Go ahead and take it. But, just know that without this map or this book, you won't find it. You will have to return to me." I held on to my only bargaining chip with iron fists.

Treecko nodded. "Yeah, I get it. I'll be back once I brush up a bit on this and get my friend's help."

The grass-type turned to move toward the window, but I stopped his progress with one last request. "Before you go, I need you to tell me what it was that you saw in that room that has you so scared."

With one sentence, I made Treecko's face grow pale. His normally vibrant green became a more puke colored hue. His eyes led his face down to the floor. The air grew tense between us as his face painted a picture of the rushing thoughts going through his mind. "Fine, I'll tell you. But you can't back out once I explain it. You're going to keep helping me, right?"

"Yes, I am," I confirmed. I swallowed dryly at the thought of what was to come; this was a dangerous path. It took everything within me to not start crying like I would around the other teenagers at school.

Treecko sighed, "It's... Urg, this is hard." He took a moment to collect his thoughts. Each moment made my anticipation grow. "Have you heard of Primal Dialga?"

"He sounds familiar, but refresh my memory anyway."

"He used to be the god of time, but he went insane and, well, is the reason that time doesn't flow. He lost his mind, and that's why time is stopped. He's crazy and very dangerous."

"That's his symbol, wasn't it?" I asked as I connected the dots in my mind.

Treecko nodded. "In a way, yes. It's a symbol of those in league with him. Meaning, whoever that study belongs to has powerful friends. It scares me that we just stole a book from him."

Without another word or time for me to ask any questions, the Pokémon took said book in his mouth and crawled awkwardly over to the window. He set the tome down while he opened the curtains and the glass panes behind it. He looked back at me one more time.

"One more thing: I was such a jerk to you earlier. I just didn't know how much I could trust a human. I realize now that my actions were wrong," he said.

"Apology accepted."

Finally, Treecko nodded and slipped out the window with the book in his jaws again.

Treecko scampered off into the woods as I shut and locked the window behind him. His gait was awkward to watch as he tilted from side to side. The book bobbed with his now weighted head.

Sitting heavily on my bed, I grabbed the book that interested me the most— _The Evolution of Pokemon in the After_ —from my bag for a little bit of reading before sleeping. I needed something to take my mind off of the heavy truth Treecko had just suggested. If the Elder that the library belonged to really was in cahoots with Dialga, then my small world was in much more trouble than I truly knew. If discovered, everything could crumble down around me. I had to wipe small tears from the corners of my eyes as I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind in favor of reading the text in front of me.

Immediately, I regretted the decision to read in the candlelight as my head began to head throb. A flash of excruciating pain followed by a lingering sensation washed over me. I gripped my forehead with one hand while still clutching the book with the other. The pressure refused to release with my gentle massaging.

The pounding flash came and went again, stronger this time. I dropped the book at my side in favor of massaging my temples. But still, the pain refused to fade.

Eventually, the pain overtook me, and my vision faded in a gradient that swept from white to black before I could register what was happening.

A voice in the darkness spoke one simple sentence, "This is a Time Gear."

My body tried to whirl around to see where the voice was coming from or the thing being described, but I was locked in place by an invisible force. Then, the dream faded.

My consciousness returned to a patchy surface above me. It took me a few blinks for my vision to sharpen and for me to realize that I was staring up at the ceiling. The flickering light illuminated each little flaw of the patchwork job. My head continued to pound, and I had to force myself to sit up.

 _How long was I out?_ I wondered. To check, I went to see what the workers were farming outside. Surprisingly, I found that no one was outside to do work yet, and I couldn't hear the usually loud voices of the farmhands gathered inside for a meal either. To confirm my suspicions, I opened my door to examine the hallway. My parents' room door was still shut.

My stomach gurgled, causing me to jump at the sudden sensations in my core. I grabbed my almost nonexistent belly as the pain in my stomach rumbled again. How long had it been since I had eaten? It was hard to tell without any measure of when I returned to town. Plus, after that dream, I had no concept of how much time had passed. All I knew was that people were in bed when I returned—even the Litwick and Chandelure were slumbering—and no one was awake now. I tried to recall if my stomach was roaring before my dream too and whether or not I was sitting upright before passing out. The details blurred together, and I forced myself to drop the thoughts lest I confuse myself even more.

Ignoring the lingering pain and the baffling thoughts of time passing, a concept that I knew next to nothing about, I closed my room door and laid on my bed once again. Exhaustion called me more than food did, so I rolled up in the blankets and let myself float off to sleep. The dream haunted my mind and made for an uneasy slumber.


	7. Half-Truths

"Sophia? Are you in there?" a female voice jolted me from sleep.

I swam through the haze that clogged my brain. The film that clouded my thoughts slowly dissipated as I rubbed my eyes and took a sip of water from the nearly empty bottle on my bedside table. Eventually, I came to enough to figure out it was my mother's voice that had stirred me.

"Yeah, mom," I responded. My words came out slurred, a side effect of how groggy I felt.

I heard a gasp from the other side of my door. "Are you alright? You sound sick."

"I'm fine, I just..." I trailed off after almost revealing too much about the nature of my ailment. My head screamed with a pain comparable to last night's. A simple half-truth would do nicely. "I just have a really bad headache."

"Let me come in," my mom said. The door hinges rattled not a second later. "Sophia, I need to check on you. Your father wants to talk to you after you disappeared last tenth."

That statement made my blood run cold. Father never dove too deep into my adventures that took place on tenths—our society's equivalent of a "day"—that I spent at school or at the library. My gaze spun from the door to my window; it would be all too easy to slip out again. Realizing that it wouldn't be smart to upset my father two tenths of a single cycle in a row, I rose to my feet to lock in my decision. I obliged with my mom and unlocked the door after clearing away the pillows from last night. I put on my best sick face.

"Aw, you poor thing," my mother pouted as she did a once over of me with her eyes. Her bottom lip quivered with overly dramatic flair. Her braided strands fell around her round face as she cocked her head to the side. "That's okay, I can take care of you. Your father will understand when he sees you like this."

"Mom, I'm fine," I whined. It was the truth, but I wanted to ride this lie out as long as I could. "Can I just go to school? I promise I'll talk to Dad later."

She gasped, "No! You need to stay home to recover. I bet it was those disgusting children there that gave you this illness. This is why we don't want you going there. Plus, they fill your head with dangerous thoughts of the world and the Before."

Holding back a laugh, I thought to myself, _I do that pretty well on my own_.

My mother continued without leaving a pause for me, "We also need your help around here. You're weak, and farm work would help you become stronger. It wouldn't encourage wimpy behavior like sitting behind a desk would." I frowned at her jab at me. It annoyed me that I couldn't say anything in response; she spoke the truth and it irked me.

Despite the hunger and malnourishment, my mother was a strong woman. Her muscles peaked through her thin, dark skin. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, she would take on any man in the village in a fight; most surrendered before she threw the first punch. In another world, in another time, she could have been a trainer like we learned about in class. Instead, she was stuck here in this world with me and the rest of the poor souls that humanity had left. She made the most of her talents by marrying the heir to the only ranch in town.

"Rest while I make breakfast," she commanded. "If you're feeling better in a couple of hours, I'll let you come outside with me and feed the Miltank. I remember how much you loved them as a kid."

She chuckled as she turned to leave the room. "You would even pretend to talk to them when they mooed at you. It was really sweet." Her face fell to a frown as she recalled my childhood. "Whatever happened to that eager girl, full of life and always willing to help?"

After placing that rhetorical question over my head, she went downstairs.

With my newly bought freedom, my thoughts drifted to the strange dream I had. After sleeping, my mind was sharp enough to realize that the dream had taken place over mere moments. I blacked out, eavesdropped on something that I could still hear clearly in my mind, and then woke up.

"This is a Time Gear." The phrase resonated over and over, like a creaky gate that oscillated between being open and closed.

"What the hell is a Time Gear? I didn't even get a chance to see what it was," I thought out loud.

"Sophia, here's your tea." My mother's voice sang its way up the stairs. Something smelled like peppermint as her shadow rounded the corner up the steps.

"Thanks, Mom," I said as I extended my hands for the mug. My senses were suddenly elated by the warm liquid flowing into me. The heat of the liquid contrasted nicely with the cool, minty flavor of the drink. After a few sips spaced apart by awkward moments of my mom staring at me in silence, the pressure in my head began to ease away.

My mother smiled as she watched my evolving expressions. "I'm guessing that hit the spot. Come downstairs when you're ready, we can tend to the Miltank and the Torchic together." She kissed my forehead before whisking out of my room again.

I laid back and stared up at the ceiling again. My mind flashed with the blank images from my dream again as I looked up at the patchy surface above me. The mysterious man's voice still echoed in my ears. Fantasies of what the words meant danced in my mind as my eyes flitted around, following the cracks where different materials met to form the rough surface above me. I wasn't alive when the house was built, but it was easy to tell where the builders ran out of one resource and hastily switched to another.

Craving another sip of the warm and fulfilling liquid, I propped myself up on my elbows. I let the warmth crack my lips open and pour itself into my mouth. The flavor danced on my tongue as I drained the dregs from the white cup. I set the now empty mug down again as I leaned down for my bookbag. I dangled my body over the side of the bed to check a suspicion that was beginning to form in my mind.

Maybe a Time Gear was something that I read about one time in a book. I reached for the book I was getting ready to read before I had the dream. I had read the entirety of this book previously, and it was possible that this mysterious gear was something I've seen before. I thumbed through pages, letting my eyes scan the walls of text and diagrams for any mentions of a gear. My fingers slowed to a stop when the book's headlines began to discuss time.

 _60 seconds make 1 minute._

 _60 minutes make 1 hour._

 _24 hours make 1 day._

 _7 days make 1 week._

 _~52 weeks make 1 year. However, 365 days also make 1 year for a more precise estimation (366 days every 4 years)._

 _I am writing this before my memories of time fade even more. This information was already hard enough to recall even though it was once considered common knowledge; even children used to know these fundamental facts._

 _In the past—what the ages of old are called in reference to time gone by—time flowed freely. We refer to this period as "The Before." This gives you the measurements we once used to count time. Some believe that there is a way to allow time to flow freely again. However, those tales are just follies to allow the weak-minded ways to cope with our current predicament. Once we landed here, there was no returning to what we once had._

No matter how many times I read it, it still baffled me. My mind tried to do all sorts of gymnastics to bend around what these foreign measurements meant. Seconds eluded me no matter how hard I tried to count them out. Other forbidden books had detailed out how to conduct their measurements, describing them like a heartbeat, but my fingers fumbled when I tried to tick and tock the seconds. When I tried to construct an hourglass using dust and old liquor bottles, the dust froze midair as it started falling from one glass to the other. Strange magic didn't want us as a people to understand time. I continued reading the remaining fragment on the page, concerned about what came next.

 _Now, on the topic of Time Gears. These blue gears..._

What concerned me the most about this passage was the next page. Or rather, the lack of a next page; small pieces of paper that were aligned with the spine denoted where information once sat. The book skipped ahead to a new chapter that was completely unrelated to the previous topic. To make the situation even more maddening, there were no page numbers to judge how much had been lost. In my first confused readings of this book, I thought little to nothing of it. I had theorized that old age had simply deteriorated these pages to dust. But, after my vision and talking with Treecko, I knew that this was no mere coincidence.

I recalled Treecko's words as I let my fingers trace over the torn-up section. "Whoever that study belongs to has powerful friends. It scares me that we just stole a book from him."

That scared me too. What scared me even more, however, was the final image before the discarded section.

The blue gear was beautiful and unfortunately familiar. An intricate arrow pattern was carved into the six-spoked disc. The caption below the figure denoted that this was a hand drawn representation of a Time Gear. My stomach twisted into knots when my mind placed where I had seen it before: it was identical to the decorations on the banner in the underground library.

Previously, this symbol meant nothing. Now, it had meanings I couldn't comprehend. It would be naïve of me to continue to convince myself that this was all a coincidence. No, someone had taken these pages intentionally due to the nature of their contents. However, that also led me to believe that the pages might still be intact and hidden away. If that was the case, where were the missing pages?

Footsteps made me leap into action to resume normality. I shoved the book back into its hidden location in my bag and then twisted myself around to lay on my back. Soon, my mom entered my room again. She brought a steaming bowl that smelled of salty liquid. She handed me the bowl carefully. There was already a spoon in the yellow broth that I recognized to be Torchic and noodle soup. My favorite.

"After you finish that, do you want to come outside? Your color looks much better." She sat down next to me and placed her hand on my forehead. "That fever is gone too."

I shrugged as I spooned a full teaspoon of soup into my mouth. The salt tingled my tongue.

"What were you reading just now?"

I grabbed the fighting book that Emmanuel had let me take in place of the actual book I had been perusing. She flipped through a few pages, taking in the words briefly.

"Interesting. Would you like to work through this with me later? It might help you with bullies in town."

I shrugged again.

My mother sighed at my lack of a response. "You know, your father wants you to take over the farm when you're old enough," my mother began. "He could always get Abdul or Malik to do it, but he wants you.

"Why?" I asked. It didn't bother me at all that either of the brothers could take over for me.

"Why? Because you are his daughter, and he loves you very much."

I snorted at that statement. I was preparing an acidic comment, but my mother steamrolled over it with her lecture. "He does, and that's why he is so hard on you. He just wants you to be the best that you can be."

"And I can't be my best here! I don't give a damn about—"

"Darn, young lady," my mother corrected. "Do not curse in my household or I'll smack you."

"I don't give a damn about this place!" Sure enough, my mom smacked my arm. I continued with little more than a stutter. "It's not who I am. I need to be learning and reading, not wearing my bones down in some Grumpig Pen. You are forcing this on me, and I'm tired of it. Why can't you just let me live my dreams?"

"Because dreams don't matter in this world," my mother shouted.

Shivers rushed down my spine as I helplessly waited for her harsh words to bite my head off like a fierce Mightyena would do to a fluffy, harmless Mareep. But the bite never came as the fire in my mother's eyes slowly dimmed. I couldn't help but notice the growing bags under her heavy brown eyes which were the same dull amber color as mine.

Eventually, she continued in a softer tone. "Dreams don't matter, because we are just here to survive. Once civilization is rebuilt, then our children's children can have dreams again."

My ears rang and my mind reeled as my mother's scathing truths sank in. "With how the population is dwindling, my children won't have children."

Without a word, my mother rose to her feet and started for the door. She leaned on the frame with an extended arm; the wood creaked with its exasperated effort.

"I know," she whispered as she looked at me again. Her voice choked slightly with the simple phrase. I noticed her bottom lip begin to quiver as she turned away.

I waited until she was downstairs again before pondering my next move. Out of a lack of things left to do, I cried.

The gentle gnawing of the Miltank calmed my frayed nerves. The creatures milled around happily on their stubby back legs as they shoved food into their mouths with the hooves on their front legs. When they finished one mouthful, they extended their fat black necks or pink front legs to their manger or my outstretched palm again. Their slimy mouths usually made me leap away in terror, but I couldn't bring myself to tear away from the moment. I feared that I wouldn't return to reality for quite some time if I did.

I didn't dare think of the recent revelations and conversations. Not the books, not the library, not Treecko, not the Time Gears; especially not my mom. Instead, I focused on the pink Milk Cow Pokémon grazing in front of me. Their sweeping rat tails with a black knob on the end kept me in the present. I couldn't help but notice that some of the younger females had swollen tan stomachs.

 _Is it birthing season already?_ I wondered. _What if Mom and Dad are right? What if it_ is _time for me to get my head out of the clouds and back here to reality. I don't even know when it's mating season or birthing season._

To my right, I listened to the provoked groans of a Tauros—the horned, male variant of Miltank with wiry brown fur. The bull leaped and jolted in an attempt to shake off the boy that was hanging on for dear life. Malik's many bruises and scars attested to the fact that he was bad at Tauros riding, but he still tried regardless of his lack of skill. Every man in town seemed to enjoy the sport when they had a spare moment, so Malik took every chance to practice so he could show off when he came of age. Same went for drinking, which he was equally bad at.

Malik's younger brother, Abdul, guffawed every time the young man fell off. His young voice squealed with glee; I didn't have to look at him to know he was smiling his goofy grin. When I didn't feel like watching their stupid games, I looked across the way to our neighbor's farm. The elderly man was out tending to his less lively crops as we tended to our Pokémon; plants couldn't buck you off if you grabbed them the wrong way.

The owner of the farm, Mr. Chapman, carried around his watering can to nourish more delicate plants that resided in his garden. Behind him, Squirtle rushed past while spurting water on his commercial greens as farm hands ran alongside them with hoes. He was just far enough away that his white hair almost meshed with his pale skin, forming a seamless bond between old man skin and hair. Or, maybe he was actually bald now. I tried to remember the last time I had seen him up close.

He waved in a non-specific direction to us before continuing to water his plants. I brushed my hands of the Miltank food before returning the gesture. The Pokémon swarmed where the chow now lay discarded.

"Chill out, gals." I had to leap away from the circling hoard of cows to avoid being trampled.

"It's not our fault that we don't get enough food," said a Miltank through a mouthful of cud. "Maybe if you all fed us more, we wouldn't rush at you for food."

"That's not going to happen. I don't even get enough food," I replied.

"Then that's your fault. Eat more, gain some weight." The Miltank began to walk away. "Get more sleep while you're at it. You look awful."

"It's not my fault that a stupid Treecko kept me up."

"Oh, that annoying little thing? He woke us up too. Ran right through our pen. Little pest was murmuring something about footprints and how his boss was going to kill him."

"What boss?" I prodded.

"Dunno." Miltank shrugged. "Hope he doesn't come back."

"If he said something like that, I'll make sure he won't..." _Until he tells me the truth._

It took me gripping the post next to me until my knuckles turned white to stop the shaking. Even with all of the force I could muster, I still felt like I was trembling. I was dealing with dangerous forces; forces I didn't fully understand yet. My only source of knowledge of these events was Treecko.

And Treecko... How could I trust such a slimeball after only a tenth of a cycle? He constantly told me half-truths and blatantly lied to me when he couldn't think of a good enough half-truth! Now, he knew too much to leave me alone. Or maybe I knew too much to get out of our "friendship" unscathed. Who was his boss? Maybe he knew about Primal Dialga because…

I couldn't bring myself to consider that he was an agent of Dialga. It would mean that I had been played like a fiddle, and I refused to come to that conclusion. I took a deep breath, trying to get the world to stop spinning. Was I really that stupid?

"Mom, can I lie down again?" I yelled toward my mother. She was tending to Torchic across the lawn from me. Her braided hair fell around her broad shoulders as she looked up at me. The pink headband she wore did little to restrain her cornrow braids.

"Yes," she said. Her voice sounded strained like she was crying earlier. "Are you alright?"

"I'm..." I paused. "I'm not sure. I just need some time to think. Tell Dad I'll be ready to talk after he finishes chores."

Having sealed my fate, I moved up the stone steps to the back of our house. I shut the door behind me without waiting for a response from my mom. I was sick of this, physically and mentally. I thought that I wanted these answers, but a small taste of them made me want to throw up. If I didn't start backpedaling now, it would be too late.

Dad was right, these silly stories of the Before were dangerous and unnecessary. Farming was the life for me.

Right?


	8. The Exploration Team

Treecko's head bobbed side to side with the weight of the book. He had to hurry back and grab the translation before he was away from Sophia for too long and before anyone noticed he had returned alone. Mankey was Treecko's actual partner, but he had been itching to get away from that furball since they had been assigned to be together. Now that he and Sophia were partners, he couldn't let her down like Mankey had done many times to Treecko. Plus, Treecko wasn't sure she trusted him yet, so it was better for him to return swiftly.

Sure, their partnership had started off with Treecko threatening the girl, but Treecko realized that she meant him no harm. The whole gamble paid off in the end; everything could have gone far worse in retrospect. Sophia sounded like she was going to continue helping, and Treecko was in possession of the book. Only a few more steps and then Treecko could evolve into Grovyle. Then...

Then what?

Treecko didn't really have a reason for evolving other than getting stronger so he didn't die to the crooks that kept chasing him. He longed for the moment where he could sleep peacefully. It took Dialga knows how long for him to drift off with the paranoia and the fear constantly swirling inside of him.

The terrain became more familiar as Treecko continued his trek through the barren wastelands. The hills sloped down into a swamp with slouching trees and mossy waters. The thick layer of film on the water hid the paused streams that once flowed. There, in the center of the disgusting lake, was a tree with a gnarly trunk. Treecko bounded from rock to rock with off balanced leaps. He moved slowly to avoid dropping the book into the sludge. He landed next to the tree where a mud-covered rock that was draped in moss sat. Despite the camouflage, the blue and red hues of the rock still stuck out to Treecko's trained eyes.

Treecko approached the jagged rock, checked his surroundings for foreign entities, and knocked. He struck the stone once, waited, struck the stone twice in quick succession, waited for the same amount of time, then hit the rock one last time.

"You have a lot of nerve coming back here, Treecko," a muffled voice said. The rock heaved itself out of the moss then shuffled to the right to reveal a hole in the ground.

"Nice to see you too, Gigalith," Treecko replied. "How is it going? I'm doing good, thanks for asking. I'm here to see the guild."

"Whatever, it's your funeral," the rock-type muttered.

"Great talk," Treecko said. He looked down into the darkness below and jumped.

The grass-type landed clumsily with one hand being occupied by the book. He stumbled before inevitably falling to his knees. The book thudded down next to him.

The light above him eclipsed as Gigalith shifted back into place. The grumpy guardian of the gate groaned unintelligibly. With the light from the cloud covered sun fading, the lights further in the cave became a vibrant beacon pointing the way.

Peering down beyond the sheer drop provided Treecko with an all too familiar view. The dripping water from the lake above hung stagnant in the air, recalling its last moments before time stopped forever. Chunks of rock suspended in midair provided a spiraling staircase down to a clearing filled to the brim with colorful creatures milling around stands and makeshift huts.

Treecko leaped down from rock to rock. His mouth drooled due to the oversized book that he grasped between his jaws. His toothless gums ached, but he held on tight. He feared that if he dropped it into the marketplace below, he wouldn't find it again without paying for it with coins that he didn't have. Once he reached the ground below, he removed the book and carried it with both hands through the crowds.

Other than elderly Pokémon that had existed for centuries, everyone was rather small. The largest species were those that didn't have an evolution or those that were blessed with a long life that extended from when time flowed to the current reality. Some were given the blessing after time had stopped too, but it was a well-guarded mystery how they had managed that. A mystery Treecko would soon get to the bottom of. As for the rest of the motley group of Pokémon, most stood only a little taller than Treecko, who wasn't much taller than a tree stump himself.

Book tucked under his arm again, Treecko waded through the crowd. The alluring smells of sweet dishes and tangy sauces made from berries tempted Treecko's stomach. Unfortunately, he had no coins on him and had no way to afford the mouth-watering goods that other Pokémon sold.

"Rescue Team, coming through!" shouted a Pokémon.

Two eager Magby pushed into Pokémon as they ran past. The trailing one accidentally ran into Treecko at full force as their partner continued at full speed.

"Sorry, mister," he shouted to Treecko before continuing onto the ramp leading into the world above.

"Good luck," Treecko said wistfully after the rescuers. He couldn't help but smile at the eager pair of new adventurers.

As he continued walking through the crowd, the smells no longer urged his stomach to consume them. Instead, Treecko's senses faded to second place as his regretful memories take over. Mankey was a huge jerk, but Treecko felt bad for leaving him in the woods. After all, it was a harsh world out there. The stronghold he walked through now, despite it bursting with life, felt emptier and emptier every day. The Planet's Paralysis—the Pokémon term for what Sophia had called the After—had caused hardened hearts. If subjected to the wilderness for too long, Pokémon lost their minds.

Treecko pondered, _Maybe it did the same to humans too. I can't believe someone would want to be an ally to Dialga on their own accord._

"Treecko!" someone shouted from further down the cave. The sudden acknowledgment of his presence caught him by surprise.

A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes turned to look at Treecko. He looked from face to face to try to find the source of the voice. Blank stares met his hesitant gaze. If he made one wrong move, he feared what would happen next.

 _Shit, Gigalith sold me out_ , Treecko realized as he scanned the crowd with quickly shifting eyes. _There's no other way that_ she _knows I'm here._

"Alright, I give up, Annette. Show yourself!" Treecko said as he placed his hands above his head. He let the book fall behind him and caught it with his tail. His eyes danced from shadow to shadow in search of the hidden threat.

A sharp kick to the side caught the unprepared grass-type off guard while he still tried to scan the crowd for the puppet. He hit the ground with a heavy thud before spinning around to defend against the next attack.

Instead of a fight, the sight he was met with was a squat, light-gray Banette eloquently reading a book. His book, to be more specific. The marionette that stood on its own accord occasionally swept her floppy head-tendril behind her. Her zippered mouth drew itself into a frown as she looked down at Treecko.

"Interesting, I didn't know you could read footprint runes," she said dryly. "Or is that why you came crawling back to us, you coward? You wanted us to translate your stolen book, huh?"

"Annette, you know I didn't steal it. I lost it to a group that attacked me. And I didn't steal it for personal gain. Honestly, I only want a simple passage translated in exchange for my work. The main reason I went and got it back from the humans was to make amends with you," Treecko said.

"Sure. Just like Mankey got clocked over the head by a random falling branch before crawling back to us. Or was that an accident too?" the Marionette Pokémon inquired as she ignored most of Treecko's confession.

Treecko gulped. His throat felt dry suddenly, and the fluttering feeling in his stomach became almost unbearable. "Mankey was trying to stop me in a violent way, and I simply took care of the problem in order to complete my mission."

"What mission? I don't remember assigning you one except for 'Meet up with the contact and bring the book back safely.' Look how that went. Treecko, I simply can't trust your methods," Annette said before turning back toward the heart of the cave with the book in hand.

"I was just trying to complete that mission. I messed up, I'll admit it, but I was going to make things right. Look, I brought it back! Mission accomplished!"

"You also alerted him to our presence," Annette reminded.

"How can you know that?" Treecko demanded to know. However, his voice cracks betrayed his confidence. Annette's suspicions confirmed his fears about the owner of the study's loyalty.

Treecko slipped past his fear to try to get the conversation moving in the right direction again. "You've said that about every risky thing I've ever done. How are we supposed to further our rescue operations if we never take risks?" he asked.

Annette's wandering eyes made Treecko aware of the growing crowd around them. The masses had doubled if not tripled in size since the beginning of their conversation. Most of them muttered incoherently, but the whispers that Treecko could make out favored him instead of Annette. Pokémon were not meant to be kept stewing underground, after all.

"We will continue this conversation in my office." She turned to stalk back to her quarters. However, before she got too far, she tossed the book back to Treecko.

"Thank you," Treecko said as he caught the book flawlessly.

"Don't thank me yet. You having that book is simply a means to an end if I think you're worthy. I will explain the details further in private."

The headquarters of the underground society was hidden deep in the crevices of the cave. Crystals sprang up around the entry to the makeshift building constructed with leaves, twigs, and mud. The beauty of the crystals contrasted nicely with the practicality of the guild's headquarters.

Annette's head-tail swished from side to side as she marched in front of Treecko. She had her hands clasped together neatly behind her back; her chin pointed up to let her red eyes look down on those around her. Treecko slumped along behind her with the book clutched close to his chest.

Two Zangoose stood guard outside of the entryway. Most Pokémon didn't wear clothing, but these two white mongooses wore helmets and bore blood red armor—the same color as the red patches in their fur. The zig-zag carved into the metal matched the colored pattern that was on their hidden fur. They snapped their clawed right hands to their foreheads in a salute as Annette and Treecko paraded by. Annette returned the motion in an equally as sharp fashion as she moved through the leaves that masqueraded as a door.

"Zigs, get Merlin for me. I need him in my office immediately," Annette commanded one of the Zangoose. "Zags, stay here and guard the door."

"Right away, ma'am!" the two said in unison before carrying out their assigned tasks.

As Treecko and Annette passed on-duty rescuers, Annette received more salutes and fearful glances. Treecko hated it. It made him remember when he first joined the guild. He cringed at the idea that he was once a suck up too.

"I see you've returned, milady," said a rich voice. Treecko turned toward the source to see the mustached Alakazam emerging from a darkened corridor. The yellow humanoid's built-in brown armor on his chest, knees, and wrists seemed to meld with the background behind him. His beady eyes peered down at Treecko. "And I see that you've finally completed your mission."

"Yes, I have, Merlin," Treecko said flatly. He kept his cool on the outside, but he shrunk inwardly at the psychic-type's jab.

"No chit chat, we have important matters to discuss," Annette snapped.

The Alakazam nodded, then motioned to Treecko to continue following Annette in front of him. Treecko felt insignificant between the two figures that towered over him; Merlin especially made the grass-type feel inferior. Troubled thoughts began to form that this meant he was in severe trouble. He had never talked to Merlin before, but he was well aware of the psychic-type's rank in Annette's inner circle. Treecko scratched the back of his neck, wiping away the sweat beads in the process. Thankfully, they soon came to a stop in front of another opening that was covered by leaves.

Merlin moved to the front of the group to open the way for Annette. She didn't break form as she stopped to wait for Merlin or as she continued forward again through the cleared doorway.

Treecko waited for Merlin's permission to enter the office. The yellow giant waved his arm gracefully in front of his body signaling that it was okay for Treecko to enter. Treecko ducked his head in an awkward half bow as he did so.

Annette vanished into the shadows only to appear behind her desk moments later. The dimly lit room provided plenty of space for her to slip in and out of the shadows. The ghost-type made shadow stepping seem effortless. "Alright, mission report," Annette demanded.

"You know what happened," Treecko began. "I got the book; I lost the book; I found the book. End mission report."

"Not good enough. How did you steal it back?" Annette questioned.

"I snuck around the human village and found it in their stronghold."

Annette sighed. "Alright, since you still refuse to provide any more details, I'll try a different approach. Treecko, do you know what Exploration Teams do for our guild?"

"I thought Exploration Teams were a relic of the past," Treecko said.

"Exploration Teams as you know them are," Annette confirmed. "The legends you were told as a kid of Pokémon duos and trios that only sought treasure are indeed a myth in these times. However, Explorers serve a different purpose now. Merlin, please explain."

"As you wish, milady." Merlin bowed his head. "Rescue Teams and Exploration Teams are two sides of the same coin. Rescue Teams rescue those that Pelipper and Golbat find in difficult situations. The teams receive orders and they go. However, that is assuming they know the area. Then, they carry out—"

"I know this, already. I was on a Rescue Team with Mankey. I am more interested in Explorers," Treecko interjected.

Merlin's left eye twitched, but he managed to continue in the same monotone voice. "They carry out the rescue, and their duties are done. Exploration Teams, on the other hand, are more freelance than Rescue Teams. They simply explore the area and record what they find in books, maps, and through oral retellings. However, they serve a second purpose. Exploration Teams also scout unknown areas for Rescue Teams.

"If a Rescue Team is called to an unknown dungeon or location, an Exploration Team will be sent ahead of the rescuers. They are given food and medicine to treat the Pokémon that are in danger while scouting for obstacles that might inhibit the Rescue Team. Then, they exit the dungeon and pass the information along to the Rescue Team. They are far more precise than rescuers."

"Alright, that makes sense, but how does this affect me and the book? I just need a translation for..." Treecko trailed off, hoping that no one heard his uncertainty.

"For your own personal gain? We know," Annette said. "For your information, an Exploration Team worked hard to find that book and pass it along to a trusted contact. That contact was who you and Mankey met with originally. You're disrespecting their hard work by refusing to explain how and why you got it back despite me specifically telling you to never think about that mission again. Treecko, do you even know what's in that book?"

"The key to evolution," Treecko said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. That, plus many other dangerous secrets. Secrets that we can't risk falling into the wrong hands again. Which is why you will not be part of this operation moving forward. I thought you could be, but you obviously have ulterior motives that interfere with mine. Thank you for completing your job, your work here is done. I will reinstate you and Mankey as a Rescue Team once he is out of the medical ward."

"That won't be necessary," Treecko insisted. "Thank you for the offer, Annette."

"It wasn't an offer. It was a command," Annette clarified with a sour tone in her voice. Her annoyingly long mouth pulled into a frown. "I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no. I won't let you two continue to work with this book after our conversation just now. I only explained all of this to you in order to satisfy your exhausting curiosity and to test you to see if you're prepared for a new mission. You're obviously not ready to deal with the sensitive information contained in that book."

Treecko smirked. It brought him pleasure that Annette had read him incorrectly. "Actually, that wasn't what I was going to ask. I want to join an Exploration Team."

Annette stared him down for a moment with narrowed eyes before bursting into laughter. "You and Mankey? An Exploration Team? Not a chance."

"No, not Mankey and I. I want to be a one-Pokémon Exploration Team," Treecko said.

It took all of Treecko's willpower to not be hurt by Annette's increasingly loud laughter. When she opened her red eyes again, Treecko could see tears forming. "Absolutely not. Exploration is difficult enough with two Pokémon. But with only one? That's nearly impossible. You won't have access to the proper resources either. Even if you could find a way to do it alone, I simply won't allow it."

"Actually, I do have access to resources. I made a friend that can help me. She can provide me with food and plenty of information to further our goal."

"You're joking?" Annette stopped laughing upon realizing how serious Treecko was. "You're not joking. Who could possibly want to help you? Did you meet a legendary and you're simply not telling me? I order you to tell me right now if that is the case."

"No, that's not it," Treecko said with pride in his voice.

"Merlin, scan his mind." Annette's tone dropped to become more serious again.

"No need, I'll happily tell you the truth. I've teamed up with a human. That's how I got the book back," Treecko confessed.

Annette stood there dumbfounded at what Treecko said. It took her a few moments in shocked silence before asking, "Is that true, Merlin?"

"It is," the psychic-type stated.

"You can't be serious." Annette turned back to Treecko as he spoke. Her eyes were wide, and her wispy horns stood on end. "If you are, then I can't let you leave. Humans are dangerous and evil. They were the ones that stole the book from you, or so you claim. And mean to tell me that you want to team up with one? That's treason, Treecko."

"I am well aware of that," Treecko answered. "I am well aware of all of that, but I still want to. This one is different. Accompany me to meet her and I will show you what I mean."

"Walk right into your little trap? No!" Annette said. "Guards, lock up this traitor!" she shouted toward the hallway.

"Please, Annette, let me do this," Treecko begged. He got down on his knees before the ghost-type as the two armored Zangoose charged in. "I don't even know what's in the book other than it tells the reader how to evolve. That's what the client told me when I met him. On my and Mankey's way back here, a strike team of Pokémon and humans attacked us to steal the book; they could shadow step like you. The human girl helped me infiltrate the humans' headquarters to get the book back. That's the truth!"

"Wait," Merlin commanded.

"If you're going to tell me that this little asshole is telling the truth, I don't want to hear it," Annette hissed.

"He is. Let's hear him out," Merlin suggested.

Annette said "Tsk," before waving off the guards. Her posture relaxed as her balled-up hands released. "This had better be good, or you're both in trouble."

Annette's adviser continued with no more than a nod to his superior. "Treecko, what are your true ambitions?"

"I just want to evolve so I can stop running from the evil that controls this land," Treecko said. "I want to be strong so I can fight back."

"Is that it? I see more," Merlin prompted.

"You better tell the whole truth, Treecko. You're in deep trouble as it stands," Annette threatened. "Don't pile more charges on top of what you've already confessed."

"I..." Treecko trailed off. He couldn't reveal everything he knew from Sophia. That was a surefire way to land in even more trouble. "I fear that the human girl is in trouble because of me. I just want to help her."

The air between Merlin and Treecko hung thick as the psychic-type's eyes peered deep into Treecko's thoughts. Treecko wanted to break eye contact many times, but something kept him in place as Merlin examined his heart.

"Her goals are dangerous. You must be careful if this is what you truly wish to do," Merlin warned.

"It is what I want to do," Treecko said.

The psychic-type nodded, then turned to Annette. "He has nothing else to hide. He is not working with the enemy." His tone tipped off that he knew there was more, but Merlin didn't prod.

"He might not be, but we don't know if the girl is," Annette pointed out.

"She's not. She is different than the rest of them," Treecko said.

"You're a fool for trusting her, but I don't see how I could keep you from going to her again without locking you up unjustly. Imprisoning you will raise too many questions from the population here." Annette turned around to grab the book from her desk. She flipped through a few pages and sighed. "I will allow you to evolve. Just know that evolving will produce the opposite effect of what you are seeking."

"What do you mean?"

"Evolving during the Planet's Paralysis means one of two things: you work with us or you work with Dialga. Either way, it will paint a target on your head for the other side to hunt. Are you sure you want that?"

Treecko paused before replying. He wanted to evolve for one reason and one reason only: he wanted to be able to fight back. The ghost-types and dark-types that made up the majority of fallen Pokémon had access to fire and poison moves that caused Treecko a world of hurt whenever he performed Rescue Team related activities. If Annette was correct, then evolving would provide an even worse time for Treecko. If she was telling the truth, then Treecko would become even more of a target than he already was.

"If you're hesitating this much, then you obviously don't want it. Forget that this conversation ever happened."

"I'll do it!" Treecko blurted out.

"Excuse me?" Annette asked.

"I want to evolve. I'll do it," Treecko said.

This time, Annette paused. Her jaw hung open, and she had to clench her zipper teeth together to keep up her front. "You're making a mistake."

"No, I'm not. This is what I want," Treecko admitted. "It scares me, but I want this more than anything. Especially now that I have someone I want to work with and protect."

"Fine," Annette snapped. She whipped herself around to grab books from a pile on her desk. "Merlin, translate these guides on evolution for Treecko. Include the portion from this one too," she commanded. She handed off Treecko's book to him.

Merlin bowed and left the room through the leaves behind Treecko. A quick glance over his shoulder informed Treecko that the guards were still there.

Annette continued, "If this girl is indeed trustworthy, and you are able to evolve, then I will allow you to form a special Exploration Team where you are an independent agent that teams up with this human. She and you will work together to translate, copy, steal, and whatever else you deem necessary to obtain information from the humans. I want to know what they are hiding."

"Yes, ma'am," Treecko said as he rose to his feet and bowed.

"Don't disappoint me _again_ ," Annette said. "This conversation is over." To solidify that fact, Annette turned around and paced over to her desk. She sat down behind it and began shuffling through papers.

Wordlessly, Treecko bowed into the corridor. There was more to this than Annette was letting on; secrets moved through the guild like water used to flow through riverbeds. Treecko was going to figure it out, and he knew that Sophia would be itching to assist. After all, this sort of thing seemed to be right up her alley.


	9. Out of the Frying Pan

My tailbone ached as I slammed to the hard earth again. My breath temporarily left my body, and I coughed in surprise. My surroundings spun, and the only clear thing seemed to be the hand that extended itself at my face. I took it and was lurched upward with the generosity of my mom; even while beating the snot out of me, she was simply trying to help.

"You let your guard down again. Do you want to return to something more basic? We can refresh punches and kicks again," she suggested. She began flipping through the book that Emanuel had let me borrow.

"No, I can handle it," I said half-heartedly. I wiped away the sweat on my brow, grimacing at the feeling of pounding drums in my head.

"Sophia, don't push yourself. You've only been practicing this for three tenths," my mother insisted. She flipped back a few pages, letting her eyes move left and right in concentration. "Here, this might help.

"We've been working on punching and kicking, which works great if you have the strength to power your way through a confrontation. That doesn't work yet since you aren't that strong—"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered.

"You will get there," my mom countered. "As I was saying, you aren't that strong yet, so fighting head-on won't work for you. You should be focusing on a more defensive style. Punch me."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, now do it."

I tilted my head to pop my aching neck, then threw a hard punch with my right fist. I gasped as my mother caught it mid-swing by blocking and then trapping my wrist with her right hand. She reached out with her other arm, weaving it under my captured shoulder and slung me onto her back. The world flipped past my eyes, finally showing itself to me again in the form of the sky.

My lungs exhaled forcefully as my body landed with a heavy thud. I blinked in surprise at the sudden change in orientation and the force of the rocks beneath me. My back ached where it had hit; my throat burned with my repeated coughing.

"Are you okay?" my mom asked from above with a tinge of concern. She still had my arm trapped with her hands somehow after all of that.

"Yeah." I sucked in a much-needed deep breath. She helped me to my feet again. "What was that?"

"That was a shoulder throw. It was 'based on a fighting style that was inspired by Throh—a fighting-type Pokémon that people used to compete alongside with in martial arts tournaments,'" my mother explained word for word out of the book.

"Can you teach me?"

"That's what I'm here for." She smiled.

I was clumsy at first. Multiple times I fell off balance or was pulled backward by the weight of my mother's pull. She would set me upright again and demonstrate what I did wrong. The bumps and bruises swelled on my arms and legs, some even forming into painful welts. I didn't mind it though, as it showed me that I was trying. Slowly, my arms began to understand the motions and my hands naturally adjusted to where they needed to be; they flowed like a water-type's attack around a stubborn rock. I didn't execute the throw until I had mimed the motions at least fifty, maybe a hundred times. When I did, it felt good.

"That was good, Sophia," my mother said below me after I performed a particularly well-executed throw. I had come a long way since the first few I had done.

I reached down and pulled her to her feet, almost falling over in the process. With a weak laugh, my mother helped stabilize me as she rose from the ground by herself.

"How about some breakfast?" she suggested.

"Food has never sounded better," I laughed.

Upon arrival to the house, however, I realized another family member had different plans. A disapproving glare met me as I looked into my father's eyes. He stood taller than my mom by almost half a foot; he stood taller than me by a few inches. His stern demeanor stood taller than either of us. I shrunk a bit when I saw him blocking the doorway.

A few tenths ago, when I had promised to talk to him, I ended up using my made-up illness as an excuse to worm my way out of it. My mother and I had been practicing in hiding—she knew I had dodged the conversation with the sick excuse multiple times now. We had quite a good routine going, but I felt dread for that plan as I looked at my father.

"So, are you finally ready to talk?" he inquired. "Or, are you still 'too sick.'" He hacked out a fake cough before returning to his deadpan.

Without an excuse left, I bowed my head. "I'm sorry, Father."

I didn't dare meet his brown eyes as he stepped dangerously close to me. I could feel the intensity with which he studied me even with my head bowed. I hated the feeling. My cheeks felt hot. I would never be allowed outside of the house, never be allowed at school, never be allowed at the library. Certainly, I was doomed to a life of farm work.

"And you went along with this, Makena?" He directed his anger away from me momentarily.

"I always do, Marvin. I don't know why you still question it," she answered defiantly.

I peeked up to see Father's nostrils flare as he sucked in a deep breath. His eyes flashed wildly like an uncontrolled fire. I had nothing left I could do except await my punishment.

I am never going to be let out of the house again, I feared.

"Sophia, change into something less sweaty. We're going out to do some errands," he stated as he harshly ran his fingers through his short curly hair.

"I'm not in trouble?" The disbelief was painfully obvious in my voice.

"I didn't say that. Do as I said and go change. I'll help your mother prepare some lunch for us. We'll be out for a while."

With nothing more, he turned toward the kitchen. I looked to my mother for an answer to questions I didn't want to ask in range of my father, but she simply shrugged at me. She walked into the kitchen as she motioned for me to run upstairs.

I did so swiftly, not trying to disobey Father's orders. I stepped into my room and pulled the door shut before closing the curtains. The lighting dimmed immensely despite there not being much to block; the sun wasn't a threat with the constant cloud cover. The heavier sleeping curtains still hung ajar.

My fingers felt for the wooden dresser, getting pricked by each rough splinter. The sorry excuses for trees outside made for poor wood, but it was what we had. Finally, I found the required drawer and opened it to peer inside. My eyes adjusted enough that I could make out a lighter colored shirt and a darker colored one. I guessed and ended up putting on a nice purple colored three-quarter sleeve shirt. Quickly, I changed into a different pair of pants before tossing my soiled clothes into the chute that led to the small laundry room behind the house.

I pulled on my favorite gray jacket as I reopened the window. Noisy chatter filled my ears as I did so. Peering outside revealed that Malik and Abdul were arriving on the scene in muddied clothes. My best guess was that they got an early start on their chores in the Miltank or Grumping pens. I didn't envy either idea.

Behind them, Helga busied herself with a multitude of brown packages. Her white apron was stained red and her hair was neatly tied back into a tight bun. I quickly averted my eyes from the sight. Meat was tasty, but I didn't enjoy relating it to Helga's job.

My eyes floated up from the farm to the tree line in the distance. Still no sign of Treecko. I watched for him every morning. Although, I wasn't sure if I was eager to see him return. Maybe it was because I didn't believe he would or maybe I was worried this would lead somewhere dangerous. The situation made my heart flutter, but I wanted to know more about, well, everything he had promised that book was about. My curiosity led me to throw caution to the wind, but the feeling in the pit of my stomach painfully reminded me to be careful. This was a complex situation.

Slowly, I glanced down to see my backpack discarded near the window. My studies before bed made me realize I wanted another book, but I also couldn't bring myself to take off again. I was in a deep enough hole without dodging the conversation by running away.

"I belong here, not there," I reaffirmed. I muttered the phrase to myself a few more times. Repetition led to belief.

After a few deep breaths, I moved to the hallway and closed my door behind me. As I descended the stairs, I announced my presence to the house. "I'm ready,"

A hushed conversation came to a sudden halt after I spoke. _Odd_ , I noted.

My father rounded the corner from the kitchen to the living room with two bags in hand. Mother poked her head around the corner too to wave goodbye to us.

"Be good, no running off!" Mother shouted behind us.

A packed lunch was thrust into my unprepared hands, and I almost dropped the food. My dad didn't wait to see if I caught it or not before turning to the front door and opening it with unnecessary force. He caught it mid-swing with his hand, then turned to nod curtly to my mother. Then, he looked at me. I strolled through the open doorway obediently.

Once outside, he marched past me to collect his cart. He began to roll away with it, and I quickly followed his example with the leftover cart. My soft hold broke quickly under the weight of whatever was packed into the device, so I gripped the handles harder.

This is going to be a long trip, I realized since my arms were already burning after only rolling out of the yard and across the hoof printed road.

"Where are we going?" I tested the waters of conversation as we rounded the corner to the main market square of town.

"Helga's shop to drop the meat off with her son, then to the market after we've collected stamps for it. We did good work recently, so this should net us a hefty sum," he responded.

An awkward silence fell again as we continued our trip.

"So..." I tried again, not knowing where I was heading with it. "How is Abdul and Malik's mother doing?"

"Mrs. Kassab is doing well."

Silence indicated another dead end.

"We're here," Father stated as we walked up to the butcher's shop. He began to roll the carts around back.

I started to follow, but he put his hand up for me to stop. "Wait here."

"Yes, sir," I said.

He walked away without saying anything else. I sighed deeply. The conversation was coming, and the anticipation was beginning to rattle me. My hands were shaking already; I hated that feeling so much. It was easy for me to ignore it while we were walking here as I had the handle of the cart to take my fears out on, but now, I was left empty handed. It allowed too much space for my nerves to fill. To put my mind at ease, I began twirling a strand of hair in between my pointer finger and thumb. It did little to help.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my best friend, Sophia," said an ever-irritating voice.

I spun around to face my least favorite person, Patrick. I was not in the mood to entertain. "Don't you have anything better to do?" I spat.

"Ouch, that hurt, best friend." He put his hand on his chest above his heart. "Come on, I saw you with your old man. Your mother never lets you two leave without lending out some goodies."

I was not backing down, but my words ended up coming out in a stutter. "Seriously, I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

What I imagined as brave caused the red-haired prick to laugh.

"I mean it. Leave me alone!" I stammered.

"Just give me the food you have, Sophia."

"No."

My shoe scraped the ground as I widened my stance. I let myself fall comfortably into riding stance—what the fighting book described as a tall back, feet that stood shoulder width apart, and bent knees. It was designed to make fighters feel strong and balanced, but I was still trembling.

"You can't fight me. What do you think you're doing?" Patrick snickered.

"I think I'm doing my best to not back down." I could feel tears forming. Quickly, I brushed them away with a sweep of my hand. I returned it to my side, awaiting further input from my opponent.

"This is stupid. Let's get this over with." Patrick grinned.

As always, he opened with a quick left jab. The world around me didn't slow down like books always described it would. In fact, the opposite felt uniquely true; everything seemed to speed up as adrenaline-soaked blood rushed through my body. It was an exhilarating and terrifying feeling.

My forearm throbbed where it had blocked his punch—a hearty bruise was probably forming under my jacket. I quickly retreated a few steps to regain my footing. My body bounced back into riding stance as the wild Tauros of a boy rushed at me again. I squeaked as I blocked the next oncoming punch with my right arm. I tried to counter with a weak kick, but he easily stopped with an open palm to the side of my leg. I spun a little bit, and his next punch connected easily with my side.

Pain ran up my ribs where he had hit me. The sensation sent a wave of panic through me as I hurriedly stumbled to my feet from my kneeling position. Again, Patrick was beginning to run at me with fists curled up close to his sides. Then, I saw it, the opportunity I needed; he was pulling back with a right punch toward my face.

My arms moved almost on their own as I went to direct his fist's path. I let the attack connect with my forearm again, causing my newly formed bruises to scream. While he continued his motion forward, I slipped my arm in under his shoulder then quickly spun around so my back was to his torso. My hands closed on his shirt, causing him to shriek and flinch away. It was too late.

I let my knees bend, and it felt like everything else stitched together naturally. Patrick came tumbling over my back as I executed the shoulder throw on someone who had probably never seen the dead art. He fell gracelessly to the ground as I stood over him. I released his arm, letting it flop to his battered form.

"Don't bother me again," I threatened down at the wide-eyed boy. It came out without a single stutter.

After he stopped coughing, Patrick tried stumbling to his feet, but he fell on his face unceremoniously. Again, he rose to his knees and tried getting up. I blocked his retreat with outstretched arms.

"Got it?" I asked after he refused to respond the first time.

"Yeah, I got it. Just don't expect any help from my family if you ever come in hurt," he hissed like an angered Skitty.

He batted my arm out of the way as he moved to the main street again. He risked a glance back at me, to which I wrinkled my nose and narrowed my eyes at him. I stamped my right foot forward, which he took as his leave from the situation. I was no longer something to mess with.

A sharp pop sound from behind me made me whip my attention around. I spun widely to face the next attacker, but I was met with a sight I had rarely seen: my father was moving toward me while clapping. His eyes shone and his normally static mouth was pulled into a smile.

"Your mother told me about what she was teaching you. I'm glad I got to see it in action," he praised.

The shivers and tears came over me like a cold splash of water in the morning. It was sudden and disgusting; I hated it so much. My nose ran and my eyes mourned. Without thinking, I ran to him for it to stop.

"Come here," he said as he embraced me. His warm arms helped ease the unnerved feeling inside of me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do."

"We know you've been struggling with people like him a lot lately since you're the daughter of one of the only food suppliers in town. It's part of why we didn't want you to go to school. However, I think you've finally grown enough to be independent."

I looked up at him with teary eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I watched you fight that boy. At first, I thought you needed my help. I've seen the bruises you come home with."

I looked down in shame. My arms throbbed in response to him calling them out.

"But, after only a few tenths of practice, you were able to fight off that brat. I want you to still stay home for a majority of each cycle, but I'm willing to let you do what you want to do with the remaining days."

"Are you serious?" I couldn't believe my ears.

"Yes."

I wept, not from the pain in my side or the adrenaline that was beginning to fade, but from the happiness that I now felt.

"Thank you, I don't know what else to say," I sobbed.

He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away slightly so he could look into my eyes. "You don't need to say anything. Let's finish our errands, then you can go to the last period of school."

"Alright, I like that plan." I smiled before hugging my father one more time.

* * *

I walked through the doors of school happy for once in who knows how long. It didn't bother me that the few people left milling in front of the building didn't share my enthusiasm. After all, I wouldn't have to see them until next cycle—there were still four tenths left in this cycle, but children were required to stay home and help for the seventh through tenth fractions of our messed-up week. For now, I would attend the final class before the end of the school's cycle. No one was in the hallway since classes had just started, but it still delighted me to be in the atmosphere again.

I was elated when I heard a male's voice coming through the door as opposed to a female's monotone one. Abusive Cindy was absent, and sweet old Mr. Park was here to enlighten us about the stories of the past. His class focused more on the geography of the current society. It wasn't quite what I was always searching for in the information I consumed, but it was certainly a fun topic.

I slipped into the room through the cracked door. Heads swiveled to look in my direction before returning to the notebooks before them. Mr. Park paused in the middle of his chalk stroke to face me. An elaborate map of the area was sketched on the board.

"Ah, Sophia, how pleasant of you to join us! There's a seat next to the window over there." He motioned to the row of desks nearest to the view of the forest. His face that was framed by thick, square glasses smiled as he turned to face the board again. The backside of his black hair was peppered with white flecks.

I smiled and dipped my head slightly as I slinked over to the empty desk. Mr. Park continued his lesson on geography. Another kid slipped in behind me, and Mr. Park paused to greet him as well.

"So, according to our history, our ancestors settled in this area based on a few facts..."

I began jotting down the bullet points in my notebook as the teacher continued on in his energizing tone. I recognized the sketch of town on the blackboard and little else. The area to the right of the school indicated scraped out masses of trees. Slightly to the left of that was a clearing full of rocks that which was followed by trees and an ellipsis to signify the continuing geography. The rocks brought back frightening memories of my adventure with Treecko. I couldn't help but look down at my bag where I was keeping the books stowed away until I could return them. Just north of that was the bed of a lake. It was drained long ago and now served as the base for lumber mill operations.

"Many water-types populated the area, specifically in this region." He drew a dotted line around the lake I had just been studying. "Friendly species such as Squirtle and Mudkip assisted early settlers. They helped plant farms and provide clean water. In the Before, water-types could not provide drinkable water, but something in their DNA evolved to accommodate for that. It was what began our codependency.

"Miltank and Tauros also joined the ranks of Pokémon that seemed to become dependent on humans, but we didn't need them. Instead, our diets shifted to become more vegetarian with little to no meat needed. However, we still require dairy which Miltank provide easily.

"The other necessity was covered by grass-types that also stuck around. Out in the world, they are typically the targets of overly violent ghost-types and their fire attacks. So, these docile grass-types assist farmers here with their crops by providing fertilizer and using what used to be offensive moves to nourish crops so they grow faster. Now, moving on to ghost-types. These creatures are violent and were difficult to tame. Torches provide the main source of light in town since the Chandelure—"

"Is that one of the grass-types you were talking about, Mr. Park?" asked a student to my right. I looked at him to see that he was pointing out the window. Chairs shifted as everyone turned to follow his direction.

"Yes! Good observation, Kyle," Mr. Park said. "Everyone take a moment to look out the window while I identify the species. This is certainly a treat." He hurriedly began to flip through a book.

Kids around me stared in awe of the Pokémon. Most of them didn't interact with the creatures like I did on a regular basis, so this was a treat to them. They all probably had Skitty or Lillipup to chase off the odd Rattata and other pests, and that was about all the contact they had with Pokémon. The Chandelure that floated through the town didn't count since they were usually asleep or catatonic.

To me, however, this specific creature meant more deception and fearful adventures. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that quite yet, despite being torn on the issue only before shopping with my dad. After all, I had just escaped from one major problem, and I didn't want to run straight into the arms of another. Our neighbor Mr. Chapman's saying ran through my head. "Out of the frying pan, into the fire."

"I do believe that this is a Treecko," Mr. Park finally deduced.

Treecko hung on the tree outside of the building with a book perched on the branch below him. He was staring directly at me.


End file.
